Schism
by HappySmilesVarietyHour
Summary: PART 1/3 OF PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS - Draco Malfoy ends the silence between himself and an old friend and, in effect, sends them both on a difficult journey to find their place within the chaotic Wizarding World.
1. An Old Friend

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER I: A NEW FRIEND

-- -- -- -- --

STORY NOTES:

Disclaimer: All publicall recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are my property. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The **'Pestilence That Walketh In Darkness'** Trilogy

_**Part One: Schism**_  
Part Two: Havenless  
Part Three: Equilibrium

**Full Summary:** Change and turmoil often occur because of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his followers. However, that will not ring fully true this time. Draco Malfoy finally decides to end a year-long silence between himself and an old friend and, in effect, sends them both on a difficult journey to find their place within the chaotic Wizarding World.

**Rating:** 18+; **includes sensitive topics:** arranged/forced marriages, drug and alcohol use/abuse, murder/manslaughter, rape

**Characters: **Albus Dumbledore, Bellatrix Lestrange, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Fenrir Greyback, Ginny Weasley, Gregory Goyle, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Original Characters (listed below), Pansy Parkinson, Remus Lupin, Rodolphus Lestrange, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Vincent Crabbe, Voldemort

**Original Characters:** Christina Murray, Claudia Parasca, Cynthia Murray, Eric Murray, Kayden Schwarz, Maya Wellington, Nicholaus Bochner, Sophia Parasca

**Era:** Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts

**Genres:** Action/Adventure, Alternative Universe, Angst, Drama, Horror/Dark, Mystery, Romance, Tragedy

**Shippings:** Blaise/OC, Draco/OC, Harry/Ginny, Harry/OC, Ron/Hermione

**Estimated Final Word Count:** 350,000 - 500,000

-- -- -- -- --

_He that dwells in the darkness shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.  
I will say this of the Lord: He is my refuge and my fortress.  
In him, I will trust.  
Surely, he will deliver me from the hunter's grasp,  
And from the noisome pestilence.  
He will cover me with his feathers,  
And under his wings I trust that his Truth will become my shield._

_I will no longer be afraid of the night's terror,  
The arrow that flies by day,  
The Pestilence that Walketh in Darkness,  
Or of the destruction that consumes each day,  
For I will become it._

_A thousand shall fall at my side,  
And ten thousand at my right hand,  
But It shall not come to me._

_Only with your eyes will you see the reward of the wicked,  
Because you too have made the Lord, which is my refuge, your habitation.  
No evil will befall you, nor will any plague come upon you,  
For he shall give his Angels charge over us, to keep us in our learned ways.  
They will bear us in their midst, unless we should wander._

_His enemies would tread upon the Snake,  
and upon the young Lion and the Dragon will they try to trample under feet.  
Because He alone has set his love upon us, therefore we will deliver him.  
We will set him high, because he knows our names.  
He will call upon us, and we will answer.  
We will be with him in trouble - We will deliver him, and we will honour him.  
With long life will we satisfy him, and shew him as our eternal salvation to Purity. _

-- -- --

The Entrance Hall at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood silent, illuminated by the searing rays of the late June sun. An odd hush had befallen the castle for the past five days, and only now was the general mood beginning to return to one of exhilaration and happiness. Exam week was, arguably, the tensest period of the entire school year.

The disposition of the student body steadily improved as Friday afternoon came to an end, along with the last of the school examinations. Fourth years dribbled constantly from Snape's dungeon, and seventh years throughout the hallways were anxiously comparing how they thought they had done on their NEWT exam for Transfiguration. Those who weren't as concerned about their marks, the youngest students, only celebrated the fact that they had completed their first, successful year at the Wizarding School.

In the Entrance Hall, the first student from the class writing an exam in the Great Hall emerged. Trying to be as quiet as she could, she shut the colossal door carefully behind her. As a click confirmed its closure, she let out a long sigh and moved towards the marble staircase.

History of Magic had been the last exam in Christina Murray's sixth year at Hogwarts. Desperately needing to clear her cluttered mind, she sat down on the bottom step of the staircase and plunged the palms of her hands into her eyes, causing stars to erupt behind her eyelids. Sighing deeply, she considered moving on to the Gryffindor common room, but with another sigh, that decision was self-refuted.

Her time alone was golden. She would take her time in returning to her friends, and especially her boyfriend. The situation with Harry was no longer what it used to be, and as of late she had found herself making excuses to get away from him. Their entire relationship was built on stilts, and had been rocky ever since this time last year, when they had officially started dating. With the Dark Lord Voldemort and the loss of his godfather constantly on Harry's mind, there did not seem to be too much time left for her.

Initially, she had been disappointed when her parents told her that they had planned her summer, but now it was a welcome relief. Two months away from Harry would not be fun, paradoxically, but it would give her time to think about their future together.

Ron had asked her earlier that week about possibly coming to the Burrow with he, Harry, and Hermione, but Chris had had to decline his offer. She would have turned down his offer even if she did _not_ have plans that summer. She could _never_ convince her parents to let her visit her friends. Her parents didn't even _know_ who her school friends were. Or, Chris concluded so, anyway. She suspected that if they _did_ know, she would have been dead by now.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the Great Hall's door opened once again. Chris looked up, curious as to who had finished the History of Magic exam second. When she saw who it was, however, she averted her gaze back to the floor, mentally cursing as she felt her cheeks flush. The boy that had emerged from the Great Hall did the same, and hurriedly walked past her spot on the staircase down towards the dungeons; towards _his_ common room.

Chris listened to his footsteps, glad that he had not stopped to compare answers on the exam. She didn't think he would have, anyway. She had not talked to Draco Malfoy for over a year; ever since their falling out.

She furrowed her brows, listening evermore raptly. Was it just her imagination, or had he stopped?

She chanced a glance over her shoulder, down in the direction he had gone in. She was right. He was standing there with his head bowed, as though in thought.

She looked back to the floor as he turned around, returning to the Entrance Hall. Behind her rib cage, Chris could feel her heart begin to pound. What could he possibly want to say to her, after a year of silence?

He stopped in front of her, and Chris could no longer ignore his presence. After an awkward smile was exchanged between them, he finally addressed her. "Hi, Chris."

"You know that you're not supposed to call me that," Chris replied, forcing herself to look at him.

He chuckled nervously in remembrance. That had always been the first thing she would say to him when they met each other privately outside of their individual circles of friends. "I know, but I still don't care. Listen - can I talk to you?"

Chris considered him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"After a year of not doing so, yes."

His cheeks flushed a light pink, and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "To be fair, it was _you_ that-"

Chris stood from the stairs, glancing around anxiously for eavesdroppers. "All right, but make it quick, Draco."

Draco smiled weakly at her. It was the first smile that Chris had seen on his face since last year. "You're not supposed to call me that, either."

Chris returned his smile. "Whatever. Where are we going?"

Draco looked down towards the dungeons. "There aren't any Potions exams today. It'd be safe to wander this way."

Chris nodded in agreement. "All right, then. Lead the way."

They walked side by side, the atmosphere growing more and more awkward between them as time passed. Chris' mind raced for something with which to break the silence. "So, how are your mom and dad doing?"

Draco shrugged. "They're alive."

"And mine?"

He paused. "Keeping their noses clean."

Chris nodded, mulling that over in her head. She couldn't believe that her parents had gone this far without ever being suspected by the Ministry for Dark activity.

"You worry about them?"

Chris looked up at him. "Sometimes."

"They're good at what they do," Draco hurriedly told her, attempting to ease her troubled mind. "I don't think that you'll have to worry about the Ministry catching up to them."

"I still do, though," Chris replied, rubbing her arms as they moved further into the chilly dungeons. "I know that they'll never go to Azkaban, but I worry about what would happen if-"

She stopped abruptly.

"You still haven't told your friends that your parents are Death Eaters?"

She shook her head. "I can't. Not now, with Harry, and all."

Draco subtly bit his bottom lip. "So you two are still together?"

Chris sighed heavily. "Yes."

Draco studied her as they walked. "Why do you say it like _that_?"

Chris flushed under his stare. "I don't know."

"Is everything all right between you two?"

"Why would _you_ care?" Chris asked, but then fell silent again. She knew why he asked, or, she _thought_ that she knew why he would ask, anyways.

Draco didn't answer her question, but stopped walking. "This should be good enough, here."

Chris stopped walking as well, turned to face him, and crossed her arms. "So, what do you want? What could you possibly want, after a year?"

"Nothing from you personally, I assure you," he shook his head, reaching into his pants' pocket. "I just got this letter from my parents, and I'm supposed to pass a message on to you."

Chris stared at him, then uncrossed her arms. "What message?"

He unfolded the letter, then quickly read it over again before speaking. "Tomorrow, when we get off the train at King's Cross, my parents will be there to meet us. Together, we will travel to my family's manor, where your parents will be waiting."

"Is that so," Chris thought about what he had just told her. "Can I see that?"

He obliged, handing the piece of parchment over to her. She read it over, her brows furrowing together when she was done. "Strange. You'd think they'd just meet me at the train station themselves."

"Why?"

Chris glanced up at Draco before returning to the letter, written in Narcissa's cursive. "We're going on vacation, as I've been told."

Draco was silent for a moment. "That's a little odd, I guess."

Chris raised an eyebrow at Draco, for he seemed to be hiding something from her. "What is it?"

Draco averted his gaze, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's, er - nothing. You'll probably be told when we get there-"

"What do you know?" Chris asked more forcefully this time. "Tell me, Draco."

He hesitated, but then nodded. "Fine. But, when your parents tell you about it, you can't let them know that I told you, Ok? I'm not supposed to know, either."

"Right," Chris nodded, bracing herself for what was to come.

Draco sighed, staring at the floor. "The Ministry raided your manor."

Chris felt her stomach drop unpleasantly. "What did they find?"

"They found evidence that the Dark Lord had been there," Draco continued, still not meeting her eyes. "Very _literal_ evidence."

"What do you mean by that?" Chris clapped a hand to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide.

"Well..." Draco paused. "They ran into him there. None survived from the Ministry, I heard, and neither did Wormtail. Your parents are most likely under investigation."

Chris stared at him. "You told me that they were keeping their noses clean!"

"I didn't want you to find out this way," Draco shook his head. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you-"

"Where is the Dark Lord, now?" Chris asked, cutting him off. "Don't tell me that he's at _your_ house! Your house will be the next one searched, for sure!"

"No, he's not there," Draco refuted her statement, leaning in a little closer, and dropping his voice. "Dad tells me that he's staying at my aunt Bella's house in Norway until things blow over-"

"Shit," Chris swore under her breath, and turned away from him. "This is just what I need. I'm going to be coming back to Hogwarts with my family name tarnished, my parents in Azkaban, and everybody knowing who my mom and dad are-"

"Not if they stay under the radar," Draco shook his head. "They had to meet with some Aurors about the Ministry people going missing at their home, but they managed to convince them that they had never _been_ to their home, insinuating that they had probably gone missing before actually reaching it. They aren't being incarcerated, but they _are_ probably on high alert."

Chris sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Damn it. I guess that's that for our vacation, then."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, mom and dad are going to be doing damage control, aren't they?" Chris asked him.

Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah, they are. Or, well, our dads will probably be doing most of it. I think that your mom and my mom are staying at the manor with us."

Chris stared at him. "What do you mean by that? 'Staying at the manor with _us_'?"

Draco blushed again. "Oh, well, um, your family is staying at _my_ home, where they'll be safe, should the Ministry decide to try and arrest them. The Dark Lord cast a Fidelus Charm over the place, and-"

"I thought that you said he was in Norway."

"He is," Draco confirmed. "But he wanted to have a safe haven in Britain, where he could meet the Death Eaters, if he needed to."

"So the Dark Lord is going to be there?" Chris asked, her voice trembling from her annoyance with Draco for not telling her a straight story.

"Sometimes, yes," Draco nodded again. "But, you know, if you don't want to see him, it's not hard. My manor is pretty big. It's easy to avoid him."

"Unless he wants to see _you_."

Draco furrowed his brows. "Why would he want to-?"

"You know why," Chris replied, lowering her voice. "You know that he wants us."

Draco did not reply. He _did_ know that. He had known it ever since the Dark Lord had returned two years ago.

Chris sighed, backing away from him. "Listen, Draco. I have to go. I promised my friends that I would meet them in the common room."

Draco nodded, then looked in the other direction as he heard approaching voices. "Yeah, you might want to go. I think that that's Blaise and his girlfriend coming right now."

Without further ado, Chris moved down the hallway away from Draco. Before they were from each other's sight, though, Chris turned back around. "Draco?"

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. "What?"

She gave him a small wave and smile before continuing on her way. "It was good to talk to you again."

He returned her wave, smiled, and then disappeared.


	2. Revelations

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER II: REVELATIONS

-- -- -- -- --

Chris uttered the password that would grant her entrance to the Gryffindor common room, and climbed through the Fat Lady when the portrait swung open before her. She looked around for her friends, but spotted only Harry sitting amongst the furniture in front of the vacant fireplace. Forcing a smile onto her face, she moved across the room to join him.

"Hello," she spoke as she took her seat next to him. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"_Off_," he replied, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You didn't meet them in the hallway?"

Chris shook her head as Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "No, I didn't. They must've gone the other way, or something."

Harry nodded, then kissed her in greeting. "They said that they would meet us at dinner in the Great Hall. What took you so long? Was your exam _that_ hard?"

"It wasn't too bad," Chris fidgeted uncomfortably. "I just wanted to make sure that I got everything I possibly could. Passing the class depended on that exam."

"Yeah, History of Magic isn't the easiest class ever-"

"It's not the course itself, but Binns," Ron's voice entered the mix. "If he were easier to listen to, History of Magic would be a breeze."

Chris and Harry looked up to find Ron and Hermione taking seats across from them.

"I thought that you were going for a walk," Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as to why they had returned so soon.

"_Somebody_ decided that it was too warm outside to go for a walk," Ron replied, glancing accusingly at Hermione.

Hermione let go of Ron's hand, then crossed her arms. "Sorry if I don't feel like working up a sweat. It's _much_ more comfortable up here, out of the heat."

Proceeding to ignore Ron, Hermione turned to Chris. "How did your exam go? Did you make it there in time?"

The four of them laughed. Chris had stayed up the night before, studying for her exam, and had fallen asleep sometime in the late morning. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, on their way back from their morning exam, were surprised to find that Chris was still in the common room, asleep. They shook her awake, and she ran off to the Great Hall, with only a quarter of an hour to spare before she would have been designated as late.

"I got there with about ten seconds to spare before they shut the doors," Chris told them with a smile. "And I'm not too sure how I did on the exam. I forget everything there was to know about the goblin revolutions in the sixteenth century, except for the who, what, and when aspects about it, of course."

Ron and Harry laughed, but Hermione continued to speak in a serious manner. "And other than that?"

Chris shrugged. "I think I passed and, right now, that's all that I care about. When my post-exam stress wears away, _then_ I'll start worrying about whether or not I got a good grade. So, what should we do until dinnertime?"

"Go for a walk?" Ron sarcastically suggested, glancing indicatively towards Hermione again.

She ignored him. "Why don't we go down to the lake?"

Chris stood from her seat. "I'm all for it. It's too bad that McGonagall banned swimming again, though. I could really go for _that_ right now."

"Me too," Harry agreed, taking a hold of Chris' hand as they left the common room. "If those stupid fifth years hadn't decided to go skinny dipping past curfew last week, we would have been able to."

Chris looked at him in bewilderment. "_Who_ went skinny dipping?"

Ron laughed, deciding to field the question. "A couple of fifth years from our house and from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff did. I saw them when Filch was frog marching them back into the school-"

"When you were in detention?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point," Ron told Hermione, continuing on. "Filch told me that no one was supposed to know except for himself, Dumbledore, and the Heads of Houses. So, keep it to yourself. If everyone found out, then Filch would know that I had told someone, and he threatened me with those chains in his office if I broke my promise to him."

Harry and Chris laughed, but Hermione only rolled her eyes. "Selfish," Harry and Chris heard her mutter under her breath as they left the school through the Entrance Hall.

They crossed the wide expanse of lawn, moving towards the lake. A large portion of the student body seemed to have the same track of mind as Hermione, for they too had decided on gathering on the lake's shores.

When they reached it, they looked up and down the water's edge for a place to sit. "There doesn't seem to be any room left."

"Oh ye of little faith," Ron spoke to Chris, letting go of Hermione's hand and making a beeline for a group of first years sitting against one of the larger trees. "Hey, get lost. Let _us_ sit there."

"No way!" the smallest of the kids piped up. "We were here first!"

"Ugh," Hermione groaned in disgust. "Ron, leave them alone! They're only first years! We'll just find somewhere else."

"No way, Hermione-"

"Hey, what's going on here?"

Ron's gaze snapped away from the kids before him, and his eyes widened in fear. Harry, Hermione, and Chris recognized the approaching person as one of the Chasers on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and as the physically largest student in the school.

"What's it to _you_?" Ron poked the giant boy in the chest as he reached him, still trying to keep up a tough persona.

"You're bugging my little brother and his friends?" he rumbled, his deep voice carrying across the beach, and gaining the attention of the students, who began to watch in amusement, their own pursuits forgotten.

"Ron, don't," Hermione mumbled anxiously under her breath. "You're going to get yourself _killed_!"

Harry sighed, glancing at Chris. "You and Hermione go and find us a place to sit. I'll pick Ron up when-"

_Crack._

Chris flinched as she heard fist hit face, but quickly regained her composure. Fighting back a laugh at Ron's terrible luck, she pulled Hermione away from Harry, and headed for the far end of the lake, where less people were situated.

Hermione steamed about Ron's stupidity as they walked along. "I can't believe that he can be _so_ thick. Sometimes, I don't know _why_ I put up with him. That _idiot_-"

Chris could no longer contain her laughter. "Oh, come on, lighten up, Hermione. It's funny, and you know it. And, if he doesn't learn a lesson now, having been clobbered by that giant back there, then it'll be positively _hilarious_."

Hermione pursed her lips, and Chris knew that she was holding back her laughter. Hermione usually refrained from laughing at Chris' jokes, determined not to encourage her in her comedic ways.

"How about here?" Hermione asked Chris, indicating an unoccupied spot beyond a group of Slytherins. "It's not the best, but it seems that it'll be all we'll get today."

"All right," Chris agreed, removing her school sweater, her shoes, and her socks.

"You might want to be careful," Hermione told her, looking warily at the Slytherins, who began to watch Chris as she undid the topmost buttons of her blouse.

"Doesn't matter. I don't have that much to show anyways," Chris shook her head, then turned to the Slytherins. "Show's over, guys."

Though slightly disappointed, the boys that had been watching her make herself more comfortable turned back to their own conversation.

"Have you got an elastic on you?" Chris asked Hermione, grabbing her long, blonde hair and throwing it back over her shoulders.

Hermione pulled an elastic from around her wrist and handed it to her. "I want it back when you're done with it, though. That's my last one."

"All right," Chris nodded, putting her hair back into a low ponytail. "Just remind me later before I go to sleep, and I'll give it to you then."

Chris leaned up against the tree, and then looked back in the direction they had come from. "Here they come."

Hermione grumbled, but did not look. Chris continued to watch them as they made their way over, a bruised Ron being supported by Harry. As they moved closer, Chris could see that Harry, too, was trying his best to suppress laughter.

"I'm not patching you up," Hermione spoke from her sprawled position on the ground as they arrived. "So don't even bother asking."

"Come on, Hermione," Ron complained, rubbing his blackening eye. "It _hurts_-"

"If you're going to be stupid like that, then you can just wait until later," Hermione cut him off.

Harry gave Chris a smile of amusement as he took a seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Want to bet on how long it'll be before she caves?"

Chris nodded, laughing quietly to herself. "I'll give her ten minutes. You?"

Harry thought about it. "Three minutes."

"You're going to lose," Chris whispered as she shook his hand, setting the bet. "She's far too annoyed with him to do it in _that_ short of time. What's the consequence?"

Harry hummed in thought, and then smiled. "Just pride this time, I think."

Harry continued to watch Ron and Hermione, keeping an eye with his watch as to how long Ron had been bugging Hermione about setting him right, but Chris' attention wandered as she heard a familiar voice.

"I don't give a flying - it doesn't matter."

Chris looked over at the Slytherins, having heard Draco's voice. He had just arrived, and was removing his school sweater in preparation to take his place amongst his friends.

"What happened, Draco?" Marcus Flint asked, laughing as he did so.

"She threw a lamp at me," Draco stated, throwing his sweater aside. "She didn't take it so well."

The Slytherins laughed raucously, Draco in the center of them. He glanced around, and his eyes skimmed over Chris. When he realized that she was there, he looked back, but then averted his gaze as Chris did. Chris' cheeks flushed, and she felt a strange embarrassment come over her about Harry's arm being around her waist, and about leaning onto him and lightly stroking his chest. She shook it off though, as Harry let a curse slip under his breath.

"Seven and a half minutes," he grumbled, looking down at her before commencing to watch Hermione heal Ron's black eye. "I guess you win."

"Hey, Weasley, what happened to _you_?" one of the Slytherins called over.

"Ignore them," Hermione spoke to Ron under her breath. "I'm just about done."

Chris watched Draco closely. Though one of his Slytherin buddies had called Ron out, he seemed to be restraining himself from saying anything. Finally, he opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw that Chris was looking at him, he shut it again, and then looked away.

"What's up with _him_?" Harry asked, having noticed as well.

"I don't know," Chris shrugged. "Maybe he can't think of anything clever to say?"

Harry accepted her answer, but Chris knew that her presence had been a factor to his quietness. She personally had not seen Draco insult her friends in the past year, but had heard plenty about it from them. She supposed that, because of the history they now shared, he still respected her enough to refrain from insulting her company ... but only when she was there.

The Slytherins continued to bother them after Ron had been healed; jeering about how he had probably been beat up by Hermione, even though they knew this was not true. However, their attempts to get a rise out of Ron failed, and they eventually stopped, reverting back to their previous conversation.

Chris felt herself begin to drift off in the warmth, but she forced herself to stay awake. This was the closest she had been to Draco outside of the classroom in the past year, and she was interested in how he had been doing, and what he had been up to. As Harry dozed off, his head on her shoulder, she listened raptly to the Slytherins' conversation.

"So, where's Pansy now?" Blaise's voice came.

"I don't know," Draco apathetically replied. "Probably crying on Millicent's shoulder, or something."

"Why'd you break up with her?"

'_Draco and Pansy were going out?_' Chris thought to herself. She opened her eyes a slit, and looked in his direction.

Draco scoffed, sneering. "It's _Pansy_. I couldn't stand her any longer."

"How long were you together?"

Draco thought about it, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know. Couldn't have been a month. Three weeks, maybe."

Marcus nodded, smiling as he thought. "Who's the new girl, then?"

Draco stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Draco," Marcus pressed him. "You never break up with a girlfriend unless you've got a new interest."

Draco shook his head, and scrunched up his nose. "There's no one new. You don't _need_ to have someone else in mind in order to break up with Pansy."

"True," Marcus nodded. He himself had had his share of hook-ups with Pansy. "Just planning on going single for the summer, then?"

"I don't know," Draco shrugged, and then hurriedly changed the topic. "So, what are _your_ plans for the summer?"

"Nothing," Marcus replied. "Going to visit family in Finland. "'Sall I know."

Draco nodded, then stood. "Well, I'll catch you later."

"Where are you going?"

"Dinner."

And with that, he was gone.

Marcus immediately turned back to Blaise. "See, I _told_ you that something was different. Did you see? He didn't even heckle Weasley."

Blaise watched Draco's back, and then nodded. "Well, I might go too. If it's nearing dinnertime, that means that I'm scheduled to meet Sara soon."

When the rest of the Slytherins had all cleared off, following Blaise, Marcus, and Draco, Chris shook Harry's shoulder to wake him up. She had sensed that it was getting close to dinnertime. "Harry, you awake?"

Harry shifted, then stretched, yawning. "Sort of."

"It's time for-"

She was cut off as Ron's stomach growled loudly, and was followed by his frame beginning to stir. "What time is it?"

Harry glanced at his watch. "Nearly six."

Ron stood, and then helped Hermione up. "Let's go a little early. We might manage to get seats together."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione smiled at him. Chris could tell that she was slightly surprised at his abruptly newfound politesse.

Harry and Chris hung back, giving Ron and Hermione a head start on their way back to the castle. "So, how should we spend our last night together?"

Chris shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm going to bed early, just in case you've got some funny ideas up in that head of yours."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "There's nothing. I promise. Nothing tonight."

Chris sensed his sincerity, and smiled. As they moved back towards the school, Chris considered how smooth the afternoon with Harry had gone, which transformed her smile into a grin.

Maybe there was a chance for them, after all.


	3. Lunch For Two

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER III: LUNCH FOR TWO

-- -- -- -- --

When Chris awoke the next morning, she did not open her eyes right away. She'd had the nightmare again - the same one she'd had almost every night since she was a very small girl. However, no matter how long it had been with her, it still did not make sense. She couldn't figure out if it had actually happened at some point in the past, or if there was something wrong with her that compelled this strange dream to recur.

If it _did_ happen at some point in her life, she couldn't have been more than three, and in a house that she vaguely recognized. However, she did not know if this was because she had actually been there before, or if she'd just had the dream too often.

It was always dark in the dream, and Chris would leave her bed to inspect a noise she had heard coming from the next room over. She would tiptoe down the hallway, moving closer to the neighboring bedroom to inspect the sound. Reaching out with a shaking hand, she would push the slightly ajar door open.

This was where her dream ended tonight, but it usually went further. The door would open and there would be a man standing there, facing the wall away from her. The young Chris, frightened, would urge her feet to move, but would remain rooted to the spot. Then, the man would sense her presence, and turn around to face her. As soon as Chris would see his face, an overwhelming feeling of suffocation would strike her, and she would awake.

Since the dream had not been as bad as usual, she was able to forget about it for the time being. Still ridiculously full from dinner last night, she rolled over to face Hermione's bed. Finally opening her eyes, she found that she was the only one left in her dormitory. Unconcerned, she looked up at the clock. It was already nearing on ten o'clock.

_'Well, so much for getting up early and having a shower_,' she thought, pulling herself from her bed and beginning to dress herself.

She jumped as she heard a bang come from the steps leading up the girls' dormitory. She hurriedly pulled her blouse on before the person could come into the room.

It was Hermione. "Good, you're awake. I thought that you were already up, but Harry said that he hadn't seen you all morning-"

"I just have to brush my hair, and then I'm ready to go," Chris replied, grabbing her hairbrush off her bedside table. "No need to worry about me."

"I know," Hermione nodded, watching Chris. "You're not high maintenance."

When Chris was done, she opened the lid to her trunk and threw her brush inside. "There. I think I'll skip breakfast, and see what they're offering on the train today for lunch. Let's go. Where are Ron and Harry, waiting in the common room?"

Her question was soon answered. As she and Hermione descended the stairs, she saw that they had seated themselves on the chairs closest to the exit. The four of them were the only students left in Gryffindor quarters.

"Were you expecting a long wait?" Chris asked, raising her eyebrows as she saw that they had made themselves quite comfortable.

"To be honest with you-" Ron started, but abruptly stopped speaking when he received a dirty look from Harry. "No. No, we weren't."

Hermione clicked her tongue in disapproval, then pulled Ron from his position on the chair. "Let's go. If we don't hurry, we're not going to be able to get a compartment to ourselves. We don't want a repeat of last night, do we?"

Ron shuddered. Since students from all four houses were intermingling for their last meal at the school until the September semester, the four of them had had no luck in finding a place where they could all fit. Ron ended up having to situate himself at the Ravenclaw table, and found himself sitting next to the kid that had hit him earlier that day.

"It could've been worse," Ron shrugged their laughter off. "I could have been Chris. I don't know _how_ you did it-"

"Sitting at the Slytherin table isn't _that_ bad," she told them. "They ignored me."

"Except Malfoy," Harry crinkled his nose in disgust.

Chris looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? He didn't bother me at all."

"He might not have talked to you, but he kept looking at you," Harry told her.

Chris managed to keep her exterior calm, but she couldn't ignore the fact that her pulse had just quickened. "That doesn't mean anything. He probably just couldn't figure out why I was sitting there."

Harry thought about it for a moment, his eyes still narrowed in mistrust for his mortal enemy. "Maybe. Are you having breakfast before we go?"

Chris shook her head. "No time."

They moved past the Great Hall, and out into the quickly disappearing sunshine.

Hermione held her free hand out, and two drops of rain landed on it. "We should hurry. It's going to start pouring here, soon."

They quickened their pace as they moved down the road, racing the oncoming storm. When the train came into sight, however, the heavens finally opened up. The four of them broke into a sprint, laughing as they ran for the cover of the train along with the rest of the students.

"Well, there was the shower I couldn't have this morning," Chris laughed, jumping aboard the train. "Let's find a compartment, and quick."

They moved down the corridor as fast as they could, looking left and right for an unoccupied compartment

"Here!" Ron exclaimed, pushing past two Hufflepuff girls and claiming the compartment that they were just trying to inhabit.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, embarrassed, to the two girls as they marched away. She sent Ron a glare before entering the compartment behind Chris and Harry.

Chris leaned back in her seat, trying to catch her breath. "Quite the morning we've already had, huh?"

The others smiled in agreement, tugging uncomfortably at their wet clothing.

Hermione pulled out her wand. "Here, I'll dry all your clothes off for you-"

"No need," Chris refuted her, reaching under her seat. Her trunk had already appeared, having been apparated from the school and to her place on the train. "I'll just go change."

"Nonsense, this is just easier-"

"I'm already going to go find that lady pushing the cart," Chris pulled her Muggle clothes from her trunk, and then shoved it back under her seat. "I might as well just change now."

Hermione nodded, seeing her logic. "All right, then. Don't be too long, though."

"I can't make any promises," Chris replied as she opened the compartment door. "Depends on how far up the train I have to walk to find her."

With a smile, she departed. She made her way down the corridor towards the back of the train, where she knew the closest bathrooms were. She weaved her way through the people, apologizing if she did not manage to avoid them. Finally, she made it to her destination, but as she glanced into the last compartment on her way there, she came to a stop.

"My, you seem to be popping up everywhere," she spoke as she slid the door open far enough to fit her head. "How come you're sitting all by your lonesome?"

Draco looked up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged in reply. "I was just going to change when I saw you here. So, where _is_ everybody? I'm not used to seeing you by yourself anymore. Where are Crabbe and Goyle?"

A small smirk crossed his lips. "Missed the train."

Chris looked at him in astonishment, then let herself right into his compartment. "You _aren't_ serious!"

He laughed. "When the train was leaving, I saw them up the road with an armful of food each. You'd think that one of the professors would have shooed them away from the table sooner than that."

"No kidding," Chris shook her head in amusement, the image of Crabbe and Goyle staring at the empty tracks in confusion burned into her mind. She sat down across from him. "Listen, while I'm here, we might as well arrange to meet later."

Draco furrowed his brows. "Meet?"

"Yeah," Chris confirmed. "You know, since your parents are meeting us in London? We should have a place to meet up before getting off the train, just in case we lose sight of each other."

"Right," Draco nodded, leaning forward in thought. "Why don't you just come back here, about five minutes before we're due to arrive at King's Cross?"

"Sounds good to me," Chris agreed, standing up.

"You're leaving?"

Chris looked back at him. "Yeah, I am. Sorry. I promised my friends that I wouldn't be long. And, well..."

She trailed off, looking away from him as her cheeks flushed. Draco, however, knew what she had wanted to say. "You wouldn't want them to find you here, with me."

Their eyes briefly met before Chris averted hers to the floor. "Sorry."

Draco shook his head, leaning back against his seat. "No, don't worry about it. I completely understand. It's always been that way."

Not knowing what else to say to him, in fear of bringing up things that probably neither of them preferred to talk about, Chris turned to leave once more. She had left the compartment and nearly shut its door behind her when she thought of something to say.

She poked her head back in the door. "I really _am_ sorry."

Draco looked up again. He opened his mouth to reply, but after Chris had given him a quick smile, she was gone, hindering his words.

Chris moved towards the bathroom, and found that it was empty. She went into a stall, locked the door behind her, and sat down on the lid of the toilet seat. She sighed as she thought about the encounter she had just had. How could it possibly be so easy to talk to him, after what had happened a year ago, and especially after the silence that had followed?

She sighed, shaking her head as she began to peel the wet clothes off her. At least her summer wouldn't be _completely_ dull, like it usually was.

When she had finished changing into her Muggle clothes, she left the bathroom to find the old witch that pushed the lunch cart. As she moved down the corridor where Draco's compartment was, she forced herself to keep her gaze straight. However, when she passed it, she quickly glanced in through the window. He still sat by himself, his hands folded on his lap as he stared out the window. Chris felt a pang of sympathy for him, but did not stop.

"Hello, there," she greeted the old witch with a smile. "What are you serving for lunch today?"

The witch returned her smile, then gestured towards the cart. "You have a choice: chicken Caesar salad, or steak and potatoes."

"Ooh, gourmet," Chris commented, looking back and forth between the two meal choices. Suddenly, she got an idea. "You know what, I'll take one of each."

"One Galleon," the witch told her, then handed her two plates. "Have a nice day."

"You too," Chris flashed her a smile, then headed back the way she had come.

When she reached Draco's compartment, she balanced the two meals in one hand as she opened the door. Draco looked up when she entered, growing confused when he saw what she carried.

She held the two plates out towards him. "Take your pick."

He looked up at her. "What's it for?"

She shrugged. "I thought I'd treat you to lunch."

Draco continued to stare at her, and then looked back at the food. After humming in thought, he reached for the steak and potatoes.

"I figured that'd be what you'd pick," she smiled, then dug her fork into her salad. "Well, I'll see you later, I suppose."

"Wait," Draco called out to her. "You're not going to eat with me?"

Chris looked back at him as she stopped in the doorway. "I would, if it weren't so risky. I'm sorry."

Draco's hopeful face fell, and he looked back at his steak. "All right. Well, thanks for lunch."

"You're welcome," she took another bite of her salad. "I'm serious, though, Draco. I _would_ stay with you if I could."

She managed to force a small smile out of him. "I know."

She returned his smile before finally leaving him there, to return to her other friends at the head of the train. It was too bad, she thought, that she couldn't stay with Draco. There was plenty that they could talk about, and she could officially apologize for what she had done to him a year ago.

However, that was going to have to wait for summer.


	4. Supermassive Black Hole

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER IV: SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

-- -- -- -- --

Chris returned to her original compartment to find that Ron and Harry had started a game of Exploding Snap, and Hermione had her nose stuck in a book.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked, taking a seat next to Hermione. "Is this seriously all you guys are going to do on the way back to London?"

"Unless you've got a better idea?" Hermione didn't look up from her book.

Chris took a few more bites of her salad before shrugging. "I don't know. I thought that we could maybe do _something_ together before we got to the train station."

"I'm done with this," Harry told Ron, standing up. "I have to use the toilet."

When Harry had left the compartment, Ron snorted with laughter. "Worst defeat he's ever had, I think."

Hermione ignored his comment, but Chris laughed. "I'd better go console him, then. Hermione, you want the rest of my salad?"

"What kind?"

"Caesar."

Hermione crinkled her nose, and Ron took his chance. "_I'll_ eat it."

"It's yours, then," Chris passed it to him before leaving the compartment. "We'll be back in a few - Oops, sorry, Neville!"

Neville groaned as Chris ran into him, pushing the steak and potatoes that he carried into his chest. "No, no, it's all right. I'll just go change and buy myself some more lunch. Really, Chris, it's no bother-"

"Nonsense," she told him, pulling out her wand. "It's nothing a little magic can't fix. _Scourgify_."

Neville inspected his shirt. Where there should have been a stain, it was clean. "Thanks. Listen, Chris, Harry's looking for you."

Chris frowned at him. "What? He was just here. He knows where I am."

Neville shrugged, moving past her and on his way. "That's what he said."

"Where is he?"

Neville pointed towards the end of the train. "That way. Down by the toilets."

Chris watched after him as he disappeared into a comparment two doors down. She turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Well, I guess I'll go see what he wants, then."

Ron and Hermione did not hear her, for they had succumbed to an argument. As far as Chris could gather, Ron had sniggered when Neville spilled his lunch down his front, and Hermione did not appreciate his discourtesy.

"See you later," Chris spoke more to herself than to them, then headed on her way.

As she moved further down the corridor, the people began to thin out, and when she reached the end, there was only one person standing there.

"You got my message, then," Harry spoke as she approached him.

"I did," she tried to smile, but found that it was not possible at this point in time.

She already knew what was to come, and she didn't want to deal with it.

"So, I got down here, and found that it was empty, not counting Neville," Harry recounted, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "He was on his way back down towards his compartment so I told him to send you down. What do you say, Chris?"

She blinked. "Say to what?"

He considered her, not believing that she didn't already know. "Well, we're going to be separated for the entire summer, and the last time that we did anything was over a week ago-"

"If you're suggesting that we have sex in a public toilet, you're absolutely crazy," Chris monotonously replied, crossing her arms as well.

Harry shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. We've done it before, back at the castle."

"Yes, maybe," Chris admitted to what he said. "But this is different. This is the _train_. What if someone came in? There aren't any other toilets on here, and nowhere for us to go where we'd be out of the way."

He shrugged again. "There are stalls."

"And you're going to be listening for someone coming in?" Chris countered, poking him in the chest. "Look, I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. The answer is no."

"Chris-"

"No," she spoke more forcefully. "I may have done some pretty sleazy stuff with you in the past, but I'm not going to sink _this_ low."

Harry stared at her in defiance, but she did not waver her gaze. Finally, he sighed and looked away. "Fine. I'll meet you back in the compartment."

With that, he stormed off past her. Chris exhaled heavily, then shook her head in disbelief. She could do without this for the next two months; his indecisiveness, mood swings, and appetite.

She leaned against the wall, lightly hitting her head against it over and over again as she tried to think. They must be getting close to London by now. Was there even a point in going back to the compartment? If she did, would Harry embarrass her and begin an argument about what had just transpired in front of their friends?

She decided against it. She might as well just stay down at this end of the train, and she already knew who she would spend the rest of the train ride with.

"Hello, again," she greeted Draco as she slipped into his compartment. "I'm sorry to bother you, but is it all right if I stay in here with you?"

Draco studied her, as though attempting to discern whether or not she was actually serious. "Yeah, it's fine by me. Mind you, if Pansy should come ... _run_."

Chris laughed as she sat down as close as she could to the door. She had found before that if she positioned herself right, she would not be seen by passers-by. "You don't need to tell me that. It's a natural instinct."

Draco chuckled nervously, then looked back out the window. "Yeah."

"She's trying to get you back, is she?"

Draco's gaze returned to her. "How'd you know we were dating?"

"Overheard you telling Flint about the break-up down at the lake yesterday," she told him. "So, dating Pansy for the fiftieth time must have been an experience worth taking note of. Tell me about it."

Draco laughed. She had always made fun of his affinity towards turbulent relationships, most of which had been with Pansy. "It was ... interesting, to say in the least. Different."

"How so, Sir Malfoy?"

Draco was distracted at the mention of one of her oldest nicknames for him. "Ok, now, _that_ is old."

A slow smile spread over Chris. "I thought I'd bring it back. Am I still the only one that calls you that?"

"No one else has _ever_ called me that."

"Good," Chris spoke with a nod. "So, tell me about your relationship with Pansy. Give me all the dirty little details."

Draco laughed in remembrance. She had always pestered him for details, ever since he let slip that he had lost his virginity to Pansy in third year. "There was nothing too bad this time around. She wanted to try and stay celibate. When she let slip that she wanted to wait for marriage, though, that was it for me."

Chris scoffed. "So, you wouldn't stay with her because she wouldn't sleep with you?"

Draco shook his head, leaning forward onto his knees. "No, let me elaborate further. She wanted to wait until _we_ got married before having sex again."

Chris pulled an expression of disgust, causing Draco to laugh. "Ah, well, never again, I say. _Never again_."

"And so you finally learn."

"Hey, it happens once in a while," Draco leaned back in his seat. "But I'm not always the culprit. What was that between you and Harry in the hallway? That's what you've been reduced to?"

Chris' face fell, and she felt her cheeks begin to burn. "You heard that?"

"Well, you weren't exactly keeping your voice down."

Chris shrugged, occupying herself with a lock of her hair. "Go on, then, say it."

"Say what?"

"You have something burning on the tip of your tongue."

Draco was silent for a moment. "No, I don't. I'm actually kind of proud of you for being able to say no. I wouldn't have."

Chris gave him a peculiar gaze. "You would have said yes if Harry asked you to have sex with him in the-?"

"All right, no, I'll take that back," Draco spoke over her laughter. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it."

Chris took one look at his bewildered expression, and then succumbed to giggles once again. "Sorry, I just got the _funniest_ mental picture-"

"Oh, you'd _better_ get that mental picture out of your head," Draco threatened her, crossing his arms huffily and beginning to pout in his seat.

"Or what?" Chris asked, wiping away a stray tear of laughter. "What'll you do to me? Make my summer a living nightmare? I doubt it, Draco."

"No," he snapped. "I'll - I'll - _would you stop laughing_?"

Draco grumbled as she carried on, ignoring his request. "I've caught you two at it, you know."

This got Chris' attention, and she immediately stopped laughing. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him in embarrassment. "_No_ ... you can't be serious!"

He nodded, sinking further in his seat. "In the fourth floor boys room. _I_ was under the impression that it was empty-"

"Draco, I don't think that Harry and I have _ever_ gone to that bathroom-" she stated before her eyes grew wide with realization and she gasped. "Draco, you _asshole_! You're _bullshitting_ me!"

It was his turn to laugh, but instead of Chris taking up the position that he had previously held as the victim, she joined in with him. "That was a pretty good one, I have to admit."

"Yeah, I really had you going there for a minute," Draco cheerfully replied before rubbing his cheeks and exhaling heavily. "Man, they're getting sore. I haven't laughed this hard since - well, the _last_ time we hung out like this."

"Neither have I," Chris admitted with a smile, noticing that the train was finally coming to a stop. "I've missed you, this year."

Outside the window, Chris could see the interior of King's Cross. They had finally arrived in London. Draco stood first, grabbing his trunk from beneath his seat.

"Where's _yours_?"

"In the other compartment," she answered as she followed him into the hallway. "All right, you remember the drill. You stay five paces behind me."

"Right," he let her pass him, and continued to follow her towards the train's nearest exit. "For what it's worth, Chris, I missed you, too."

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder to indicate that she'd heard him, then carried on. As they grew nearer to her compartment, she came to a sudden halt. "Oh, no. Hide me."

She dipped into the adjacent compartment, and barely missed being seen by Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they left their compartment, dragging their trunks along. Draco wasn't far behind her.

"You're sure we shouldn't take it for her?" Hermione's anxious voice came.

"She knows where it is," Harry coldly replied.

"How can you say that?" Hermione snapped at him. "She's your girlfriend! What the hell is your problem?"

"Good ol' Hermione," Chris mumbled under her breath to Draco as they listened in. "She'll _always_ stick up for me, and _never_ put up with his nonsense."

"Well, do _you_ have an extra arm?"

Chris chanced a peak around the corner. All three of them had their trunks in one hand, and pets in the other.

"No, I guess not," Hermione finally replied, frowning at him. "But you're taking the fall if she doesn't get her trunk."

"Deal," Harry nodded in agreement, and they carried on.

"Bastard," Chris sneered as she and Draco came out of the compartment they had taken refuge in. "This is what he _always_ does when I don't put out. Gets cranky and _annoying_, I might add."

Draco waited in the doorway as Chris fetched her trunk from their compartment. "Oh well. Two months of freedom. From _him_, anyways. Now that I'm done with being angry at Harry, I can concentrate on my parents, and their carelessness with the Ministry."


	5. Malfoy Manor

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER V: MALFOY MANOR

-- -- -- -- --

"Maybe we should wait a little while longer," Chris suggested to Draco, peeking out into the corridor. "There's still quite a bit of people on here. If we want to avoid being seen-"

"Knowing my father, he will be in a rush," Draco cut her off, moving ahead. "I say that we go. Who cares if someone sees us?"

"Well, _I_ care, obviously."

"Right," Draco nodded after a short hesitation. "Well, all right, then. We'll wait."

Chris smiled at him before turning back to the door. "Thanks. Man, I hate this. This is so ridiculous, Gryffindors and Slytherins not being allowed to mingle. _Ridiculous_."

"It _is_ a bit of a stupid rule," Draco agreed with her. "Is it clear yet?"

Chris inspected the corridor once again. "Yeah, I think so. Let's go."

Chris left the compartment, and Draco followed her towards the nearest exit. Chris could see through the windows in the compartments that a fairly large percent of the school body still remained in the train station. She reasoned that, since they were preoccupied with their families, they would not notice if she slipped by in the company of a Slytherin.

She and Draco carefully made their way through the station, having seen Lucius and Narcissa standing near the edge of the crowd, as though being a _part_ of the crowd would tarnish their blood's purity.

"Mother, father," Draco greeted them with a quick nod, then waited for Chris to join his side before speaking again. "I don't know if you've met her not, but this is-"

"Christina Murray," Narcissa smiled, looking at her. "It's been a very long time since we last saw each other, but _I_ still remember it."

Lucius, however, had not before met Chris. He took a step forward, and made to shake her hand. "You have a very respectable father, Christina, and he speaks very fondly of you. It is truly an honor to finally be able to meet you."

Draco seemed quite embarrassed by his father's antics, but did not say a word in protest. He knew that Death Eaters were inclined to greet their cohort's children the same way that they would greet the parents.

"Well, we shall be on our way, then," Lucius announced when he had moved away from Chris. "Christina, if you would be so kind as to go with Narcissa, we will apparate to our Manor. And - yes - your parents will be meeting us there. Due to certain circumstances, they were not able to meet you here with us today."

Chris felt Draco nudge her before he moved to join his father's side. "What kind of circumstances, exactly, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I daresay you will be enlightened when we reach the Manor," Lucius replied with a curt nod. "Let's not delay this any further. Come along, there. That's good."

Chris stood facing Narcissa, who put a hand on her shoulder. Narcissa smiled at her once more before pulling Chris into darkness. Chris, luckily enough, had managed to close her eyes before Narcissa apparated. Even though she had managed this feat, the feeling of nausea that she usually got when apparating washed over her as they stopped.

She opened her eyes to find herself standing in an elaborately decorated dining room. Even though the Malfoys' Manor was strange and unfamiliar in comparison to her own family's Manor, Chris still managed to feel quite comfortable being there. Her eyes scanned the room, inspecting what her home for the next two months would look like. However, this initial scrutiny was ended when she saw her parents sitting at the table and looking expectantly up at her.

Chris let her trunk drop to the floor as she advanced on them. "What have you done _this_ time, then?"

Her mother, Cynthia, did not reply. Instead, she gestured towards the seat next to her. "Why don't you take a seat?"

"I prefer to stand," Chris crossed her arms.

Cynthia shook her head in embarrassment, then lowered her voice so that the Malfoys would not hear her. "Please, Christina. Not in front of our hosts."

"I have the right to be angry," Chris told her, not bothering to lessen her own voice in volume.

"Well, at least..." Cynthia paused, but then continued in she and Chris' first language, which they had always spoken when in private conversation. "_We're sorry this happened, Christina. There was nothing we could do. We didn't see it coming-_"

"_What happened_?" Chris pressed, also switching over to the higher form of the Norwegian language. "_Were you seen_? _Did someone rat you out_?"

"_No_," Cynthia shook her head. "_Our manor was raided_."

Chris made an expression of mock relief. "_Oh, is that all_? _I thought that it'd be MUCH more serious than that_!"

Cynthia opened her mouth to speak, but faltered as her eyes quickly moved towards the Malfoys, who had since grown uncomfortable in their own home. "_Because of it, we will not be going to France. I'm sorry._"

Chris paused before speaking, and decided that further anger with her mother was not necessary. She knew that her mother looked forward to going back to France just as much as she did, if not more than her. "_I know you are_."

"_You're all right with this, then_?" Cynthia carefully asked her. "_Staying here for the summer, while your father and I take care of this mess_?"

Chris hesitated, glancing over her shoulder towards the Malfoys. "_I think I'll be all right with it, yes. If, and only if, you promise me that, no matter what, you'll fix this and make it right again._"

Cynthia solemnly nodded, then switched back to English, now that their argument was over. "You have my absolute word. Mark you, I will still be here. Your father will be doing most of the work, and Lucius has volunteered to help us. I have graciously stepped aside."

"Yes," Lucius stepped forward from the line his family had created against the wall opposite the Murrays. "And I will stop at nothing to help your father preserve your family's name and reputation."

Chris sighed in relief. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. That's more than I could possibly ask of you."

He bowed his head to her, then stepped back into the line, pushing Draco ahead as he did so. "Draco, why don't you take Christina to her room? She will be occupying the guest room three doors down from your own."

Draco nodded, making to pick up Chris' trunk. "Sure. Follow me, Chris."

Draco left the room, and Chris was quick to follow, speaking brief farewells to Lucius and Narcissa as she passed them. When they had left their parents' presence, she made to grab her trunk from him. "You don't need to carry two. I can take my own."

"All right," Draco agreed, handing the handle for her own back to her. "I _can_ take it for you, though, if you don't want to try and get it up the stairs. It's tricky, that staircase."

"I'm fine," she turned down his offer. "If you want to try and showcase your muscles for me, Draco, just come out with it. I know you've been working hard this year, on the Quidditch pitch."

Draco scoffed, beginning his ascent up the staircase in the main foyer, which would lead to their bedrooms. "Yeah, right. Maybe I was just being courteous?"

Chris stared at him in utmost disbelief. "Right. _You_, courteous."

"Hey, now," he replied as a grin spread across her face. "There are some people that I don't mind being kind to once in a while."

"So, on that little list," Chris replied, giving her trunk a hefty tug over the last step. "There's me and..?"

"My parents, obviously," he stated, counting off on his fingers. "They're not _always_ as pleasant as they seemed. Erm ... Blaise and Marcus can be all right sometimes, but their names aren't permanently on my list. And..."

He struggled to think of more.

"Not Pansy?" Chris tried to provoke him. "What about Crabbe? Goyle, maybe?"

Draco pulled a face of contempt. "No. Definitely not. They don't deserve my respect."

"Why not?" Chris frowned, confused. "They're your friends, aren't they?"

"They follow me around everywhere," Draco corrected her. "That doesn't count as friendship, in my book."

"Still, you have to admit," Chris carried on, staring up at one door that they passed. A plaque possessing a brass serpent's head was nailed to it. "They've gotten you out of some pretty tight places. You would be completely vulnerable without them."

Draco hesitated to answer, his mind working for a reason that would contradict her. "Yeah, I guess so."

"So, have they not earned your respect?"

Draco thought about all she had said, but then shook his head with a laugh. "No."

Chris clicked her tongue, also shaking her head. "You're so picky, Draco Malfoy."

He cast her a smile, and they continued on their way. They only moved a short distance ahead before Draco came to a halt outside a door. He made to open it, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I hope you don't mind Slytherin colors. My parents have insisted on it being some sort of a theme in our house."

Chris shrugged her shoulders. Draco should have known by that time that she was indifferent to school colors. "So long as it's got a comfortable bed in it, I'm happy."

Draco nodded, and then opened the door, gesturing her to follow. He hadn't been joking when he said that his parents had chosen a Slytherin theme. Everything from the bedspread to the carpet and wallpaper was either green or silver.

"I like it," Chris commented as she dropped her trunk, then bent down to open it.

"Yeah, it's a nice room," Draco spoke, looking around. "You've got a closet in the corner there, and your own bathroom, of course. An alcove over there ... and my room is just down the hall. You can't miss it."

"Is it the one with the snake on the door?"

"Yeah," he replied, incredulous. "How'd you know?"

She shrugged. "Something about it just screamed 'you'."

Draco smiled, then moved away from her. He put his own trunk down, and took a seat at the end of her bed. "So, I'd always noticed that you had a small accent, but I never knew that you spoke another language."

"It never came up," she told him, taking a handful of laundry from her trunk and throwing it into the hamper. "You knew that I spent most of my childhood in Norway, though. Did you think that I never communicated until I moved to England when I was eleven?"

Draco shrugged. He should have realized that. "What do you mean by 'most' of your childhood? Where else have you lived?"

Chris looked over at him. "You know, I can't believe that this has never come up. I lived in Germany and France for a little while, too."

"Do you speak German and French?"

She shook her head. "No, not very well, if at all anymore. I kind of got the grasps of the language when we lived there, but I don't remember them now. And, well, it was basically just mom, dad, and I all the time. Mom and I spoke our own language, and she and dad spoke English to one another. My dad eventually taught me English so that we could _all_ talk to one another. Plus, mom was getting sick and tired of always being the interpreter."

Draco laughed. "I would imagine so. You know, I remember when you first came to Hogwarts. Now that I recall, you didn't have the best English ever."

She forced a smile. "No, but Hermione helped me build my vocabulary after I told her that I was scared the kids would make fun of me for not being able to speak their language all that well."

"You never got teased?"

Chris paused, pulling a pile of textbooks from her trunk. "Well ... for the first few months of school, Ron made fun of me."

Draco stared at her, his eyebrows raised.

"I know, it doesn't seem like it would happen," she shrugged, slamming her now empty trunk shut. "But Hermione and I weren't friends with he and Harry until Halloween, or so."

"Huh," Draco nodded at this tidbit of information. "No, I would have never guessed."

"Of course, everything's in check now," Chris told him, moving towards her bed. "He still puts his foot in his mouth sometimes, but that can be expected."

"Oh, well. Most of us do that once in a while," Draco forced a smile, then stood up from where he sat. "I can see that you're wanting to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Chris stared after him as he left her room, trunk in tow. Shaking off what he'd said, she changed into her pajamas, then crawled underneath her blankets.

_"Most of us do that once in a while."_

Chris furrowed her brows, staring at the ceiling. Was that his way of apologizing?

Sighing, she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. She would have to make note to ask him sometime.


	6. Perennial Quest Near Complete

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER VI: PERENNIAL QUEST NEAR COMPLETE

-- -- -- -- --

When Christina and Draco had left the room, the four adults heaved a heavy sigh.

"What news, then?" Lucius asked Cynthia and Eric as they stood from the table.

"He is waiting for us in the Drawing Room," Eric replied, approaching the Malfoys along with his wife. "He has just come in from Norway. He says that it's _very_ urgent."

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a confused glance. "Urgent as in good or bad?"

Cynthia considered it as they moved along down the hallway in the opposite direction that Christina and Draco had gone. "Good, I think. He seemed very excited about something."

"He didn't say what?"

"No, he didn't," Cynthia shook her head. "It's strange, though. I don't think I've _ever_ seen him this happy about _anything_. Not for a very long time, anyways."

The double doors that lead to the Drawing Room became visible ahead, and they desisted their conversation, a curiosity coming over them as they made their way closer to the Dark Lord.

Lucius reached the door first, and held it open for the others. Only the light coming from one sole fireplace illuminated the room, but they could see the silhouette of the Dark Lord against the window opposite. Lucius was careful to shut the door soundlessly after the others had passed him, and then join the new line that the other three had formed.

They waited for the Dark Lord to address them, for surely he had heard them enter the room behind him. The Dark Lord continued to stare out the window for a few minutes more, and then turned to them once his thoughts had ceased. "Good. You're all here. Now, we can begin."

"You spoke of news, my Lord?" Lucius inclined his head towards him in respect as he moved closer.

The Dark Lord gave him a curt nod, stopping before him. "Yes. As the four of you know, I have been in Norway, where Bellatrix and Rodolphus have allowed my stay in their home. One night, Rodolphus returned from the pub in the Muggle village nearby, and was telling Bellatrix the story of a Muggle he had tried to bewitch to dance on the tables. Or, he had _thought_ it to be a Muggle."

"A wizard? In Hammerfest?" Narcissa furrowed her brows. "A member of the Ministry, perhaps?"

The Dark Lord looked at her, and then spoke through clenched teeth and a sneer. "Yes. An _old_ Ministry member, as it turned out."

Cynthia was the first person to realize who the Dark Lord was talking about, and she gasped. "You mean ... _Vladimir_?"

The Dark Lord smirked at her in pride. "You were always a quick thinker, Cynthia. Yes, Vladimir has finally made a public appearance. Now, as I understand it, Cynthia and Narcissa, you two are planning on spending the summer preparing for the-?"

"Yes, we were planning on it, my Lord," Cynthia hurriedly cut him off. "But, if you so wish, we will postpone those plans and go with you to get rid of that disgrace of a wizard."

Another smirk was directed towards her. "That is quite all right, Cynthia. If you so wish, you can participate in the activities _after_ we take the man captive. I will take Lucius and Eric with me to Norway tonight, where we will find him. It will be difficult, now."

"Why is that, my Lord?"

The Dark Lord moved towards the fireplace, and stared into the embers. "He recognized Rodolphus after throwing off his enchantment, and fled. It will be difficult to find him, but I trust that he will remain in the same area. Rodolphus assures me that he is certain Vladimir thinks that Rodolphus didn't see him. In fact, that was the oddity that brought the conversation to be in the first place. Rodolphus didn't understand why the man fled so quickly from the pub. After much thought, though, with which Roldolphus realized who it had been, he returned to the area, but found that he had disappeared.

"Rodolphus did not search far or long, for it was late in the night," the Dark Lord turned back to them. "But that is what I intend to do. Lucius and Eric, you will come with me. We will be leaving right away for Hammerfest."

Lucius and Eric stepped forward. "Of course, my Lord."

They joined the Dark Lord's side, and waited patiently as he addressed their wives. "I do not know how long we will be, but we will try to return as quickly as possible. We will not be coming back empty handed, no matter how long it takes. So, anticipate our return, for it shall be very gratifying for _all_ of us."

He nodded in Cynthia's direction as he finished speaking, and then he, Lucius, and Eric disappeared.

As soon as he was gone, Cynthia burst into tears. Narcissa, slightly surprised, though she expected something of this nature to happen, tried her best to comfort her. Her efforts were in vain.

"So they've finally found him," Cynthia spoke through her tears. "When the Dark Lord returns with him, I will make _sure_ that I am the first one at him, _and_ the last."

Narcissa placed a hand consolingly on Cynthia's shoulder, and seemed to age in the fire's light. "I'm sure that the Dark Lord will see your reasoning, and will allow for it. Come on, Cynthia, let's get you some tea. It'll make you feel better."

"No, thanks," Cynthia replied, shaking her head. "I would sooner just head to bed. It's been a long day."

She broke free of Narcissa's grip, and left the room for the bedroom that she and Eric shared. Narcissa watched after her, and then left as well. She did not wish to go to bed, as Cynthia had, and instead made her way towards the dining room.

She was surprised to find that it was not empty. "Draco, I thought that you had gone to bed."

He paused in taking a sip from his cup. "No, I'm not really tired."

"Is Christina asleep?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "She went to bed right away, so I can only presume so."

Narcissa sat down across from Draco, and after asking a house elf for a cup of tea, she continued to speak to him. "Is she adjusting all right?"

"I think so," Draco answered her. "She liked her bedroom, she said, so I think that she'll be all right here."

"Good," Narcissa was momentarily distracted as she took her cup of tea from the house elf before it once again disappeared. "So, you and Christina ... you're pretty good friends?"

Draco was silent for a moment, and took a few sips from his hot chocolate before mumbling an answer that Narcissa did not pick up.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"We're all right."

Narcissa studied him. "Only all right? I thought that you two seemed more than just all right."

"Well, we're not really supposed to hang out," Draco tried to act casually about it, but Narcissa could tell that this bothered him. "Gryffindors and Slytherins, I mean. There's just a rule about it. We'd probably be better friends if there wasn't such a rule."

Narcissa furrowed her eyebrows. "Why would a rule stop the two of you?"

"Well, not just your reputation is at stake," Draco explained, drumming his fingers on the table. "The students made it up, basically, and they - they enforce it."

Narcissa was even more confused. "The _students_ enforce the rule?"

"I've seen it before," Draco would not readily admit to his mother that he himself had actually _participated_ in it. "It's not pretty."

There was a pause between them. "I see. Does Dumbledore know about it?"

Draco shook his head. "He's never said anything about it. I don't think he knows."

Narcissa pursed her lips, and then requested another cup from the house elf. She waited until she got it before continuing on, changing the subject. "Draco, do you remember what I told you about over the Christmas holidays?"

He stared at her. "Yes, but I'd rather not talk about that."

"I know, but it bears discussion," Narcissa asked him as he took a sip from his cup. "You don't need to be worried about it-"

Draco hastily put his cup back down on the table, and then stood up. "Mum, I said that I don't want to talk about that. Not tonight. Tonight was supposed to a _good_ night."

Narcissa watched as Draco stomped out of the room, abandoning his unfinished drink. Narcissa was quick to file his reaction away into the back of her mind, and then she commenced finishing her tea without giving it a further thought.


	7. In The Moment

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER VII: IN THE MOMENT

-- -- -- -- --

Chris looked up from her book as she heard a light tapping at her bedroom door. She had been wondering all morning when she would get the company she expected, and it would seem that Draco had found her when time was nearing on midday.

She put her book face down on the coffee table and got up off the couch, heading for the door. She pulled it open and them smiled, for she had guessed correctly. "Good morning."

"Morning," he returned her greeting with a nervous smile. He had been working himself up for this ever since he had awoken, pushing himself to come to her room and talk to her. "How did you sleep?"

Chris opened the door and let him pass her. "Great! It was probably the best sleep I've had since I went home for the Easter holidays. And you?"

He paused, sitting down on a chair in her alcove and waiting for her to resume her seat. "Not very well, to tell you the truth."

Chris' smile slowly faded. "How come? Lumpy bed?"

"Not exactly," he leaned forward in his seat and forced himself to look at her. "I was up most of the night thinking."

"Thinking?" Chris repeated, pulling her legs up onto the couch. "Thinking about what?"

"About - er..." he hesitated, and then decided that he hadn't drug himself there for nothing. "Thinking about us."

Chris stared at him, and Draco could see a cold shift in her eyes. "Us."

"Yeah," Draco carried on when he realized that she wasn't going to. "About what happened a year ago-"

"Draco, if you don't mind, I'd really rather not talk about it," Chris leaned back in her seat and looked at the floor, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. "It was a huge fiasco, and I would rather we just moved on and forgot about it."

"I would like that just as much as you do," Draco nodded in agreement. "But it's going to stay there in our history like a sore if we don't discuss it, and soon."

"What good do you think will come out of us talking about it?" Chris asked him, pulling her legs against her body and resting her chin on top of her knees. "What do you expect to gain from it?"

Draco shrugged. He would say anything to avoid admitting the truth. "I need some answers from you, and I know that _you_ need some, too."

She averted her gaze when he brought his to meet hers. Draco didn't know if this was beneficial for the sake of his argument or not. "Admit it. You've wanted answers. What about those times that you cornered me in an empty corridor and tried to talk to me about it, but then just moved along when you couldn't find the words or the courage?"

Chris nervously bit her bottom lip. He spoke the truth - she _had_ tried to ask him for answers at various times in the past year.

"Chris," he spoke her name, forcing her to look at him. "We had been friends for two years before that, and even though we've lost contact in the past year, that doesn't mean that we can't have some form of friendship in the future. I want to be friends with you, and I know that _you_ want to be friends with _me_. Don't let this be the end."

Chris stared at him, thinking long and hard. Draco did not push her for a decision. He knew that she was considering his words with utmost caution. With a sigh, she looked away from him, and Draco thought that she had decided against it. But, then, she started to speak.

"Draco," her voice had almost dropped to a whisper. "Do you even know what you _took_ from me that night?"

Draco struggled to remember, but then shook his head. He had a shrewd idea, but he didn't want to be the one to vocalize it.

"You took my virginity," she spoke with difficulty. "And I'll never be able to forgive you for that."

Draco looked at her, and then nodded in understanding. He had seen that coming.

They were silent for a moment, and then Chris began to speak again after subtly shaking her head. "Don't think that it was because you took it from me, Draco. That's not exactly what I meant. What I meant was the manner in which you took it, and the way in which I lost it."

Draco tried to think of what she meant, but he drew a blank. He asked her to go on.

"Well, go ahead and call me a typical girl," her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. "But I wanted my first time to be just right. I wanted it to be with a long-time boyfriend, or maybe even with my husband, right after we had just gotten married. I didn't plan on having sex with a casual friend. I know that it was more than that for you, but - for me, I didn't wish for or expect it to happen between us."

"You're saying that I _pressured_ you into it?" Draco stared at her in disbelief. She was just as guilty as _he_ was in the entire situation.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Listen, when I was angry about it, I was angry with _myself_. I didn't understand how _I_, who I thought had a respectable amount of will power, could end up in such a sordid position."

"But, then, why didn't you tell me to stop when I asked you if you were all right with it?" Draco asked, confused. "As I recall, I asked you quite a fewtimes."

"Yes, you did, and I appreciate that," he received the first hint of a smile since the beginning of their conversation. "But - oh, this is embarrassing..."

"It's Ok, you can say it," Draco told her. "I won't laugh, or anything."

"I know you wouldn't," she nervously spoke, toying with her hair in an attempt to distract herself. "I just don't want to say it."

"Come on," Draco pestered her. "Please?"

She looked back up at him, and it was a long time before she finally nodded. "Draco ... in the heat of the moment, I wanted to do it. I don't know if it was the Firewhisky you had nicked from the kitchens or not, but I wanted to be with you, and the thought of that almost scared me. But, I weighed the odds. Honor and self-respect didn't seem to matter anymore; they were only trivial things. Hell, I don't even think that I would have cared if my friends found us in that position. The weight of your body on mine, your movements against me - not to mention the way that you were kissing and touching me - just ... overpowered me. I was all yours."

Draco didn't know what to say. He remembered being nervous about the entire situation, but he didn't think that he'd had _that_ much of an affect on her.

"It just felt ... _good_, you know? Not just the act itself, but being there with you. It felt ... _natural_. And I liked that," she continued on, determined not to look away from the window that she was now gazing out of. She added the last sentence in a whisper. "I liked it a lot."

"So, then," Draco slowly spoke, though he figured that he already knew what the answer to his question would be. "Why did we have that fight about it a few days afterward?"

She still refused to look at him. "I began to think about it, and _especially _about what you had said to me when we had finished. Do you even remember what you said?"

He nodded, but did not wish to repeat it.

Neither did Chris, it seemed. "I began to wonder if you really meant it or not, or if it was just the Firewhisky talking. No matter which way I looked at it - whether you meant it or not, whether it was what we had drank or not - I worried. If you truly - and I mean _truly_ - meant it, then that meant that our friendship had been taken to a whole new level: one that I wasn't sure I wanted to go to or not. However, if you _didn't_ mean it, or if it was just the Firewhisky, then I was just another one of your regulars. I figured that you said that to _all_ of them."

Draco was silent, but his mind raced. Should he tell her the truth? Yes, he definitely should. "Chris, I didn't drink _that_ much of it. Not enough to make me careless about hurting you. When I spoke to you, I spoke straight from the heart. To this day, you remain the only person that I've ever said that to, and was completely behind it."

Chris began to bite her bottom lip again, and she looked at him. She _had_ to look at him. She wanted to know whether or not he was serious. She searched his eyes, and found that there were no fallacies to his words.

"So, you weren't lying when you told me that you loved me?" she whispered.

He shook his head, and replied in an even quieter voice. "No. I would _never_ lie to you about something like that."

Chris felt her cheeks tinge again, but this time, it wasn't from embarrassment. "So, you were telling the truth. I still worried about what that meant, Draco. I didn't know if you expected me to feel the same way-"

"I _did_ expect you to feel the same way," he admitted in no more than a mutter. "And, at least, I _thought_ you felt the same way that I did-"

"Let me finish, Draco," she calmly spoke, holding her hand up to stop him. "Even if I _did_ feel that way towards you, there was no way that we could have _ever_ become a couple. The Gryffindor-Slytherin Rule, remember? We would have been on top of everyone's hit list; been public enemy number one. It would have never worked out. I'm sorry."

Draco nodded with pursed lips, understanding what she said to be true. "I wouldn't have thought that that would stop you, though. I figured you'd have more courage than to just abide to that."

Chris furrowed her brows in confusion, waiting for him to go on. "What?"

"I wouldn't have let that dumb rule stop us," he shrugged, glancing furtively at her. "I thought that it'd be neat to break the rule, you and I. Maybe they would have gotten rid of it."

"After beating us to a pulp, you mean?" Chris shortly asked, but then shook her head. "Sorry, I don't even know what I'm getting at. Draco, it's not the rule that stopped me. If I felt that way for you, I wouldn't have cared about breaking it, either."

Draco averted his gaze. "You didn't feel that way towards me?"

Chris shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right," he responded. "And you ... _still_ feel that way?"

Chris didn't answer, but brought herself to look at him. "Why?"

"I'm just wondering-"

Her eyes grew cold again. "You still feel the same way, don't you?"

"Maybe, I don't know-"

"I have a boyfriend."

Draco stopped speaking, but did not pause for long. "I've seen you two together, Chris. In the hallways, in the class, and on the train. He doesn't appreciate you; he takes you for granted-"

"Get out," Chris snapped, narrowing her eyes and cutting him off. "I want you out of here, Draco. I don't want to talk about this anymore. If all you came here for was to find out whether or not I felt anything towards you, then you got your answer. Get out."

"But, Chris-"

"I said _get out_!" she hollered, standing from her seat and pointing at the door. "You see? This was why I haven't talked to you since it happened! I _knew_ that this was what you'd be after! Get - _out_!"

Draco stared at her, and then stood as well. He didn't want to make her any angrier with him than she already was. "Fine. I guess I'll - I'll see you around."

Chris watched him with piercing eyes as he made his way towards the exit. When he reached her bedroom door he glanced back, and it appeared as thought he wanted to say one more thing. However, when he saw the look that he was receiving from her, he continued on, his words unspoken.


	8. The First Encounter

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER VIII: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

-- -- -- -- --

Draco's encounter with Chris earned him an entire week of silence. She completely ignored him, and rapidly went from warm and welcoming to reclusive and cold. Whenever he tried to speak to her, or apologize for what he had said before, she would only

stand up, walk away, and barricade herself in her bedroom.

She no longer answered her door when he knocked and requested her permission to enter, either. No reply would come when he announced his presence, and he would eventually give up and head back to his own bedroom with the resolution to try again later.

As the week wore on, however, he could sense her initial fury with him slowly subsiding. On the third day after their argument, she had hurriedly asked him where their fathers had gone when she noticed their strange absence. He gave her an answer, and she hurriedly retreated from his presence before he could say anything further to her.

On the fourth day, she no longer stood up and left the room whenever he entered it. On the fifth, she only turned a deaf ear towards him. She would let him talk to her, but she would still not reply. Draco no longer tried to speak about what they had discussed in her bedroom six days prior to that, deciding it to be a redundant pursuit.

On the sixth day that she had taken to ignoring him, a week after their argument, Draco found himself to be alone in the dining room. This did not usually bother him, but he knew that something unspeakable was going on in his home tonight. His mother and Cynthia had regularly accompanied him for dinner that week, talking amongst themselves and attempting to provoke Draco into joining their conversation. But, tonight, they were not here.

Draco looked up as he heard approaching footsteps in the hallway. He wondered if they were already done with the Dark Lord, and if they would be joining him after all. However, he had guessed wrong. When he saw who it _really_ was that had entered the room, he let his eyes fall back onto his meal.

He heard Chris stop in her advance when she realized that he was there, and alone. For a moment, it seemed to Draco that she would leave, to return later when he no longer occupied the dining room. To his surprise, though, her hesitance ended and she sat down at the table across from him.

A house elf instantly appeared, and placed a plate before Chris. She silently reached for her fork and began to eat, resting her forehead in her hand. Draco chanced a glance up at her, and saw that she was using her fingers as a shield against him, hiding her eyes. She didn't want him in her sight while she ate.

Draco knew that she had spent most of the day in her bedroom, and he wondered if she knew what was going on at the Manor that night. He decided to bite the bullet, and address her on the subject. "You might want to tread carefully tonight."

She gave him a fleeting look, and then returned to her meal.

The fact that she did not stand up and walk away gave Draco the impression that she was actually listening to him. "The Dark Lord is here, and he's having a meeting with our parents. They've been in there all evening."

"In where?"

Draco felt some of the tensions between them release when he realized that they had just taken another step towards being back on speaking terms. "In the drawing room. Do you know where that is?"

"No," she shook her head as she stood up. "It doesn't matter, anyways. I'm going straight back to my bedroom."

With that, she was gone. Draco sighed as he looked down at her uneaten, unfinished meal. So, she had left when he had talked to her. At least she had stayed long enough to utter a reply. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

Chris sighed irritably as she made her way back down the hallway. So what if the Dark Lord was there? Right now, she could care less about anything-

"_No_! _Please_! _Have mercy_!"

Chris inhaled sharply as she heard these cries, followed immediately by an incantation and a bloodcurdling scream. She turned around to face the direction that she had just come from. Over the sound of her now rapidly beating heart, she was able to make out that the scream had come from further down the hallway; from the double doors in the shadowed part of the corridor beyond the dining room.

She took a step towards them, but then hesitated. _Should_ she go and see what was going on? Her logic kicked in, and her answer was self-provided: no, definitely not. These doors had to lead to the drawing room, where the Dark Lord and her parents were. However, along with logic came her curiosity. She _knew_ that voice that called out for mercy. How, she could not discern, but she recognized it.

Her mind was made up, and she crept back down the hallway. She glanced into the dining room as she passed, but Draco was too preoccupied with his meal to notice her. When she was sure that she was completely out of his sight, she moved along a little faster, all her thought now bent on the doors before her.

As she came into close proximity with it, she heard a forceful, cold voice come from within. "Where is she, Kalisov?"

As Chris came closer, she saw that there was a reasonably sized space between the shut doors that led into the room. As slowly and carefully as she could, she bent down to the floor, closed one eye, and peered through the crack.  
A sound behind her made her jump slightly, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Draco had left the dining room and was making his way upstairs. Now, she was truly alone against the situation on the other side of the doors.  
When Draco left her sight, she looked back through the doors' gap. At first she saw nothing, but then movement caught her eyes. A man lay on the floor within, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Chris tried to get a better look at his face, but the shadow of the man standing over him concealed it.

"I don't know," the man managed to speak through his pain. "My Lord-"

"You would _dare_," Chris quietly gasped as she heard her mother's cold, angry voice. "You would _dare_ call him that, after what you have _done_? _Crucio_!"

The man's screams of pain filled the room once again, and Chris had to clap her hand to her mouth to avoid being heard.

"Now, now, Cynthia," the Dark Lord's voice came. "If you do to him what Bella did to the Longbottoms, we'll _never_ get any answers out of him."

There was a pause, and then Chris heard her mother speak again. This time, her voice was far less harsher than it had been when she spoke to the man named Kalisov. "Of course, my Lord. My apologies."

Chris shrank back slightly as the Dark Lord returned into her view. "We know where one of them is, Kalisov. Where is the other? _Surely_, you are hiding her from us."

The man replied in a voice that made Chris think immediately of the late Peter Pettigrew. "You - you know where the boy is? Why that's - that's wonderful! But, if you have the boy back, why do you need the girl?"

"_You don't even remember their names_!" Cynthia's angry, shrill voice came from Chris' right.

"_Cynthia_," the Dark Lord spoke her name in a warning tone. "Kalisov, to me, it does not matter whether I have the boy and girl back or not, but, as you can clearly see, it matters to _her_. Now, _tell me_, Kalisov ... _where is she_?"

The man's voice was filled with panic once again. "I already told you: I don't know! I haven't seen her since-"

"Oh, this is hopeless," Eric spoke under his breath, and Chris realized that he was right on the other side of the door. "I don't think that he _does_."

The Dark Lord turned away from the man, and looked at Eric. He considered what Eric had said, and then turned back to Kalisov. "Look at me."

The man began to sniffle, shielding his eyes from the Dark Lord.

"Don't make me ask Cynthia to use the Cruciatus Curse on you again," he threatened the man in a heightened voice, causing him to begin sobbing in fear. "_Look at me_."

The man did as he was told, and Chris waited with bated breath while the Dark Lord exercised Legilimency on the pathetic form before him. A moment later, the Dark Lord looked back at the Murrays and the Malfoys to deliver his verdict.

"He does not know."

"But how can that possibly be?" Cynthia instantly replied. "Maybe he can do Occlumency-"

"Cynthia, I am a very accomplished Legilimens and he is a very weak man," the Dark Lord softly spoke as he cut her off. "He does not know. Do you understand me, Cynthia?"

Her mother and the Dark Lord shared a very pregnant pause. Finally, Cynthia spoke her reply. "I understand, my Lord."

"Good," the Dark Lord briefly bowed his head towards her before flicking his wand towards the man and suspending him in midair. "As for your request: very well. You may do whatever you wish to the man-"

"_No_!"

The people inside the room paused, and then glanced at each other in attempt to determine who it was that had spoken out against the Dark Lord's proclamation. Chris gasped loudly and clapped her hands over her mouth as she too realized that the voice had not come from someone within.

It had come from _her_.

Her fear rooted her to the spot, and she was unable to move as the door swung open, and a Death Eater's mask greeted her. She was finally able to gain control over her body and she stood to leave, but when she got a better look at the man that they had tortured and questioned, her eyes grew wide in recognition.

_She moved down the hallway towards the neighboring bedroom. Its door hung slightly ajar, and in her dream, the young Christina would push the door open to find a man looking back at her. _

The person that had opened the door revealed himself when he spoke, and Chris found that it was Lucius who had exposed her to the room's company. "Christina, what do you think you're _doing_ here?"

Without a word, Chris turned her back on Lucius and ran down the hallway, back towards her bedroom. As she ran, she could hear a voice calling her name, trying to bring her back, but she did not wish to adhere. Besides, what could the Dark Lord possibly want her for, besides punishment?

The Dark Lord's motives were not her largest worry for the time being. The only thing that she could think of was that _he_ was here. It had been _him_ that she had seen all those years in her recurring nightmares. This time, however, she had not needed to open the door to find him standing there.

Someone else had opened it for her.

Chris ran as hard as she could, and her feet pounded painfully against the marble as she ascended the staircase. She stopped when she had reached the top of the stairs and chanced a glance over the railing towards the foyer. She felt her heart nearly stop when she saw that a robed, black figure followed her, moving towards the very same staircase that she herself had just climbed.

She couldn't return to her own bedroom. Her parents, the Malfoys, and the Dark Lord (she presumed) knew where she was staying, and would be sure to check there first. But, where else could she go?

She tried the first door on her left, but found that it was locked. She cursed to herself, and then moved on to try the next one. However, she stopped in her advance as she saw the brass snake mounted on the door.

"Shit!" she cursed to herself, and then carried on to the next.

As she tried the door leading to the room next to Draco's, his bewildered face appeared in his doorway. "Chris, what are you _doing_?"

"Leave me alone, Draco," she managed to say, peering past him and towards the staircase. She gasped, for she could now see the shadow of the approaching figure.

She made to run down the hallway in the opposite direction, but was stopped when she heard Lucius' voice. "_Impedimenta_!"

Chris froze where she stood. She attempted to struggle against the spell, but it was no use. She was stuck there, and would be forced to wait with utmost fear until he reversed it.

"What did you do _that_ for?" Draco asked as he stepped in front of his father. "What's the hell is going on?"

"Get out of my way," Lucius told him, pushing him aside. "Go back into your room, now."

"Not until you tell me-"

"Draco, I said _now_!"

Draco hesitated, looking from his father to the statue that was Chris. With a sigh of defeat, he made to do as he was told. "You'd better not hurt her."

"It is not I that wishes to speak to her," Lucius replied, moving away from his son. "If the Dark Lord sees that fit as consequence for her actions, then there is nothing that you can do or say to help her."

Draco stared at his father in disbelief, and then retreated inside his bedroom. The Dark Lord wanted to speak to her? What exactly had she _done_?

"Come on, then," Lucius removed the spell that he had cast upon Chris, and then took a hold of her upper arm. "You're coming with me."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy," she apologized, tears of fear beginning to sting the corners of her eyes. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I recognized the man's voice, and-"

"It is not I that you should be apologizing to," he solemnly shook his head. "Here are a few words of advice, Christina: hold your tongue when we get there. He does not care for rambling. Answer only when he addresses you. If you're lucky, he will _ask_ for your account."

Lucius stopped talking when they reached the bottom of the stairs. He marched her down the hallway, and down towards the now open double doors. As they crossed the threshold, Chris found that her parents, Narcissa, and the man named Kalisov had disappeared. The only person that remained behind was the Dark Lord, who looked down on Christina with a strange expression of mixed anger and consideration.

Lucius let go of her arm and forced her down onto her knees. He then hurriedly joined her, imitating her position. "My Lord, Christina Murray-"

"I know her name," the Dark Lord cut him off. "Leave us, Lucius. I would like to speak to the girl alone."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius rose to his feet, bowed low to the Dark Lord, and then left, making sure to shut the doors securely behind him.

The room remained silent, and Chris could hear Lucius' footsteps fade away into the distance. Now she was truly alone with the Dark Lord. What would he possibly say, or do to her? The longer the silence held, the more uneasy Chris felt ... why didn't he just _do_ something, already?

She chanced a glance up at him, but then cast her eyes right back to the floor. He was staring at her, watching her, considering her ... she couldn't make up her mind which. She only felt slight comfort in the fact that some of the initial anger she had seen in him seemed to have disappeared.

"Stand, Christina," he finally spoke to her, causing her to flinch. "And follow me over here, if you will."

She did as she was told, but nearly stumbled as her legs turned to jelly and threatened to buckle beneath her. She steadied herself, took a few deep breaths, and then followed the Dark Lord as he crossed the room and took a seat in an old, throne-like chair.

The Dark Lord continued to scrutinize her, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he did so. Chris couldn't bear to meet his eyes, so instead concentrated on her hands as they nervously fumbled with one another, it seemed, without her will.

"What did you know of the man that you saw?" he finally asked her.

Chris shook nervously, glancing up at him. "I don't know. I - I recognized his voice, so I thought that I'd - I-"

She trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish her sentence.

"You recognized his voice," the Dark Lord repeated thoughtfully. Chris took solace in the fact that he seemed to believe her. "How? Had you ever met him before?"

Chris thought about it, and considered telling him about her nightmare, but that seemed irrelevant towards the question that he asked. "I don't know. I _might_ have met him before, but I can't be too sure. All I know is that I remember his voice from - from somewhere."

"Hm," the Dark Lord considered her answer. "Look at me, Christina."

She hesitated to do so, but then forced herself to oblige to his demand. When she managed to pull her gaze from the floor, she found that he was staring intently back at her, deeply into her eyes. She instantly desired to look away, but found that she was unable to. It felt as though a serpent had taken a hold of her soul.

She gasped as a series of images burst sporadically before her mind's eye - a detailed phantasmagoria of her recurring nightmare. As soon as they ceased, she pulled her gaze away from him and applied pressure to her forehead, clenching her eyes shut. That had been too strange for words.

"So, you've _seen_ him before," the Dark Lord spoke after allowing her a few seconds to recover. "What was that, that I just saw?"

"Just - just a nightmare," she tried to pass it off.

When he spoke, his voice revealed deepened curiosity. "A nightmare, you say? When did you have this nightmare?"

She sighed. "I've had it almost every night, ever since I can remember."

The Dark Lord was silent as he considered what she was telling him. "Tell me everything about this nightmare. I have to admit: you've piqued my interest."

"If you really want to hear about it," she shrugged submissively. The Dark Lord leaned forward onto his knees, giving her his full attention.

"At the beginning of the dream - it starts off fairly all right, so I'll call it a dream for now," she cut herself off, and then continued. "I'm sitting in a room, and I'm by myself. Sometimes my mother is there with me in the dream, and sometimes she isn't. I look out the window, and I can see that the sun is setting, so I climb into my bed. Sunset was always bedtime for me when I was younger. I close my eyes to go to sleep, but it's a slow process. Then, as soon as my eyes close, they snap open again."

She shuddered as she thought about what would happen next. "This is when it becomes a nightmare. When I open my eyes, it's nighttime. I realize that I had been awoken by the sound of a werewolf howling at the full moon outside. I've asked my mom about that, and she told me that we used to be able to hear them, where we used to live. I try to go back to sleep, but I hear something coming from the other side of my bedroom wall."

Chris paused as she tried to collect her thoughts. The Dark Lord waited patiently for her to continue.

"The sound is always different," she furrowed her brows, trying to think how to explain the two variations that she had experienced over the years. "Sometimes I can hear a voice - that man's voice - and sometimes I hear the sound of crying ... _children_ crying. They may even be babies. I'm not too sure."

"Children?" the Dark Lord interrupted.

She glanced up at him. "Yeah, I know, it's dumb, but it's true-"

"Go on."

She nodded, remembering what Lucius had said about the Dark Lord's attitude towards rambling. "Right. Well, after I hear the sound, my curiosity gets the best of me. I leave my bed, and then my bedroom. I creep as lightly as I can on the tips of my toes towards the neighboring room, and when I reach the door, I find that it has already been opened, and left ever so slightly ajar. From inside, I can see and hear movement. I can't see clearly enough though, so in order to get a better look, I push the door open."

She swallowed hard, hesitant to continue. She knew that the Dark Lord wanted to hear her out, however, and that it would be in her best interest to carry on. "Sometimes I see him standing there, and sometimes this really bad feeling washes over me. Sometimes, on really bad nights, I get both. When I see him, he's staring back at me, and his gaze - his gaze slices me to pieces. His face ... it's almost always distorted. But, the feeling is far worse. When I open the door, I get this rushing feeling. I can feel his hatred for me, his evil, and - and I just know that he wants to bring harm to me."

The Dark Lord was silent. Her tale finished, she looked up at him. His curiosity had disappeared, and she was almost certain that it had been replaced with complete alarm.

As soon as she saw this, however, it diminished, and his former air of curiosity returned. "And then?"

"That's it," Chris shrugged. "I wake up after I open the door. I've never seen beyond that."

"I see," the Dark Lord spoke quieter now, as though in thought. "And you've had this nightmare every night for the past - how many years?"

"Ever since I can remember," she repeated for him.

He nodded slowly. "That is all of it?"

"Yes."

"You may go, then."

She couldn't help but look up at him in her surprise. "What?"

"You may go," he gestured towards the door. "We are finished. Or, well..."

He paused, as though in thought, and then he continued. "Christina, if I were to tell you something, would you promise to remember it?"

She nodded, willing to do anything for him, now that she had been let off the hook.

"And when I say remember it, I mean _never_ forget it," he elaborated, standing from his chair and moving towards her. Chris hadn't been previously aware of how tall he was, and she took a few small steps back.

"Yes, I can do that," she stood straighter, waiting.

He approached her, stopping when they were an arm's length apart. "Ave, domini Inferi."

She furrowed her brows, and then repeated it under her breath. "Ave, domini Inferi ... I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Yes, it may seem that way now," he bowed his head to her. "But it may be useful to you someday, if you find yourself in a critical situation."

"All right," she nodded, even though she still didn't completely understand. "Ave, domini Inferi. I think that I've got it, now."

He smirked at her. "Good. Now, go on. I have some business to attend to, as you probably know."

She gave him a small bow, and then made for the doors. As she moved up the hallway, her head buzzed with thought. That had probably been the strangest encounter she had ever experienced in her entire life. She couldn't _believe_ her luck.

She reached the top of the staircase, and began to walk with a light foot. She did not want Draco to know that she had finished with the Dark Lord.

It was no use. When she reached her door, she heard one open behind her, followed by his voice. "Are you all right? What did he do to you?"

Chris briefly closed her eyes, and turned to face him. "I'm fine. He didn't do anything. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

He nodded, and then disappeared back into his bedroom. Chris continued to stare at the place he had been standing, and could not suppress the pang of guilt that had manifested itself within her. He had tried to help her, after all, when his father came to take her downstairs, and he had surely worried about her while she was down there. She'd had no right to snap at him like that.

She took a small step towards his bedroom, but then stalled. She remembered the discussion that they'd had a week ago, and decided that she could not apologize to him. If she apologized to him, he may begin to think that she was forgiving his actions and words from a week ago, and she could not allow for that.


	9. The Future In Time

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER IX: THE FUTURE IN TIME

-- -- -- -- --

The night had been full of distress for Draco, and he had not been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time without waking up. Whenever he awoke, his overtired mind would immediately grind into gear, prohibiting him from just rolling over and closing his eyes again. He couldn't remember being this troubled when it came to girls in all his life, and it was beginning to take its toll on him.

He had tried to sleep through the next day, hoping that he had maybe deduced what it was exactly that he had done wrong to Chris the day before. He had decided that she was still just angry about the conversation they'd had a week ago, and that she would come around when she forgot her anger. Besides, it was not like they had never had spats before, back when they were friends.

However, they had never disputed about something this serious before. Whenever this thought would run through Draco's mind, it would further delay his slumber. He had finally begun to truly drift off by dinnertime that day, and he was certain that he would have had a very good sleep if someone hadn't come knocking on his door.

Draco groaned as he pulled the covers up over his head. Not now ... anytime but now. If it was Chris that requested his company, then he was not prepared for it.

Deciding that it would be in his best interest to answer the door, no matter his appearance and level of exhaustion, he sat up in his bed. If he ignored her completely, then the silence between them would only grow longer. Besides, he knew that Chris didn't care what he looked like. He still remembered when she had snuck into the hospital wing to visit him in their fourth year, when he had contracted influenza.

As he recalled, he had never looked rougher, but, as he looked in the mirror when he stood up, he found that his sleep deprivation offered some very healthy competition. Bags had formed under his eyes, along with dark circles. His skin was pasty, and had taken on a leather feel to it. His hair was disheveled, and stood up in every direction, defying all natural laws of gravity. He groaned, but knew that he had no time to fix anything. He didn't know how much longer she would stand outside his door before eventually giving up and returning to her own bedroom.

"Hold on, I'm coming," he grumbled loudly enough for her to hear as another impatient knock came. He stumbled towards the door, trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain that had newly manifested itself within his head.

'_Perfect_,' he thought. '_Just what I need_.'

He opened the door, and didn't know if he felt relieved or disappointed to find that it had not been Chris who had roused him from his bed.

Narcissa gave her son a strange look of consideration. "Is this a good time, Draco? Are you ill?"

He shook his head. "No, just tired. What do you need?"

She didn't answer his question, but continued to stare at him. "You haven't been sleeping? Is everything all right-?"

"Everything's _fine_, mom," he cut her off. "Can you just tell me what you need? I want to go back to bed."

She nodded. "Right. Can I come in?"

Draco opened the door, and let her pass him before shutting it again. She made for Draco's alcove, and he was quick to follow her. He took a seat across from her, and then waited for her to state the purpose of her visit.

"We need to discuss what I told you about during the Christmas holidays, Draco," she began carefully, knowing that this was a sour subject.

Draco groaned, sliding down in his seat. "No, I don't want - don't tell me that you've picked someone!"

Narcissa pursed her lips. "Yes, we have, your father and I. I was not allowed to tell you this at Christmas, but we have had a bride picked out for you for some time, now. I am sure, though, that you will not be completely against the arrangements. We had been toying with the idea that you would be married to Christina."

"What?" Draco's gaze snapped back to his mother. "To Chris? But, we're only friends."

She shrugged. "That does not matter. Cynthia and I have been speaking about it for years, now - it was actually under the circumstance of this arranged marriage that our families became so close in the first place - and it has just been finalized."

Draco stared at her in thought, and then began to bite his nails. "Does _she_ know about it?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No. It is the duty of the groom - _you_ - to tell the bride of the arrangements."

"What if she doesn't want to do it?"

Narcissa slouched a little in her seat, as though she was hesitant to answer his question. "She has a choice. She can either go through with it, or wait until her mother and father find someone else for her."

"But this has been talked about for a long time, you said," Draco pointed out. "It sounds to me as though you're putting all your eggs into one basket with this marriage."

"We are," she admitted after a small pause. "We started discussing it when you would have only been seven years old. We wanted there to be a tie between the Malfoys and the Murrays, so that there would one strong family behind the Dark Lord when he returned. He supports the marriage too, because of that."

Draco felt his stomach drop. "The Dark Lord supports the marriage?"

"Yes," Narcissa nodded. "The way he sees it, you and Christina are getting married so as to best serve him, just like your father and I did, and Bella and Rodolphus."

"Aunt Bella and uncle Rodolphus?" Draco repeated. He knew that his parents' marriage had been arranged, but not theirs.

"Yes, they married fully for that purpose," Narcissa confirmed with another nod. "Not all marriages are strictly for love and children, Draco. This is a pureblood marriage and, not to mention, a Death Eater marriage. If you and Christina choose to love each other within those binds, as your father and I have, then that is up to you."

"Unless she doesn't want to go through with it," Draco pointed out, remembering what she had said about Chris having a choice in the manner.

Narcissa hesitated. "Yes, that is true, but I would imagine that, since the marriage has received the support of the Dark Lord, he will expect it to go through. Cynthia and Eric will try their best to convince Christina to go through with it now, because of that."

"If she chooses not to," Draco furrowed his brows as a thought came to him. "Will the Dark Lord be angry?"

Narcissa shook her head. "If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. Marital cessations have happened before. Your father was initially set to marry Bellatrix, but he chose not to go through with it. Of course, that was when the groom still had a choice."

Draco scoffed as he thought about how at end that marriage would have been. His serious demeanor returned, however, when he registered the rest of what she had said. "_I_ don't have a choice in the manner?"

"No," Narcissa responded, entwining her fingers on her lap. "In the past, the groom sometimes displayed the tendency to be picky about the bride chosen for him, and it's just too much of a hassle when the groom calls off wedding after wedding. So, they ended up losing their privilege."

Draco nodded. It made sense, but he wished that past grooms had not been so stupid about it. "So, the only way that this thing is called off is if _she_ calls it off?"

"At this point, yes," Narcissa nodded. "The parents have the ability to call it off as well but, needless to say, we will not be doing that. Your father, the Murrays, and I are completely behind you and Christina getting married."

"And, if she calls it off," Draco continued, furrowing his brows. "What happens to me?"

"We have a back-up plan, of course," Narcissa explained to him, but then clucked her tongue as she studied her son. "Why are you so worried about her saying no, Draco? I thought that the two of you were friends! Surely, she will be all right with this?"

Draco shrugged, preferring not to think about it. "I don't know. She _might_ be all right with it, but I can't be too sure."

Draco could almost see the expression of revulsion that she would surely give him when he told her about this entire affair, accompanied by her voice: _"You had something to do with this, didn't you, Draco? No. Absolutely not. It's not going to happen. I refuse."_

"Cynthia has told me that Christina knows she is to participate in an arranged marriage," Narcissa told Draco, bringing him out of his thoughts. "She says that she has known since she was ten or so, when Cynthia told her."

"But she doesn't know that it's _me_ she's supposed to marry?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No. Like I said, _you're_ the one who has to tell her. It's tradition."

A small scream echoed inside Draco's head. The thought of him telling Chris all this was almost laughable, if it wasn't so serious.

"Do you understand that, Draco?"

"Yes," he nodded in the affirmative. "When is the wedding supposed to happen?"

"Well, it's customary to tell the bride and groom approximately two years before the wedding," she told him as she stood from her seat. "Here, take this."

Draco hadn't noticed before, but she carried a small black box in her hand, which he took from her. "What is it?"

"Your engagement rings are inside," Narcissa stated, ushering him to open the box. "You two are to wear these until the wedding. You will be expected to purchase your own wedding rings when the time comes, so be sure not to forget that, Draco."

Draco opened the box and stared at the rings. A horrible feeling swept over him once again as he thought about what Chris' reaction would be when he tried to give her a ring.

"I'll leave you to sleep, then," Narcissa bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. "Good luck, Draco-"

"Mom," he cut her off as she made her way towards the door. "If Chris says no, who's next in line to marry me?"

A smile came over Narcissa, and she answered without hesitation. "Pansy Parkinson, naturally."

Narcissa left Draco's room, and did not see the mixed expression of distaste and anxiety that her son had adopted. _Pansy_? Why _her_? Why did it have to be _her_?

A dreadful thought struck Draco. If Chris refused the arranged marriage agreement, he was _for sure_ marrying Pansy. There was no way that _she_ would opt out of the marriage plans.

His mind and heart heavy, he shook his head and put the ringbox on the coffee table. There was no one else that he would rather marry than Chris, for he did not know of any other girls that he would ever want to consider his wife, even if it was not in a loving way. Chris could be his only choice, and _would_ be his only choice in the manner. But, would she feel the same way towards _him_? That was where things got blurry.

He moved back towards his bed, but realized that he would most likely not be falling asleep tonight. His mother had added a whole new laundry list of problems to his already overcrowded head, and his mind would more than likely not hesitate to mull it all over.


	10. Closer To The Heart

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER X: CLOSER TO THE HEART

-- -- -- -- --

Draco was surprised to find that, the next time he opened his eyes, it was mid-afternoon. He could hardly believe that he had actually been able to fall asleep the night before, after his mother had visited his room.

With that thought, his stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Hesitantly, he rolled over to face the alcove. Yes, the rings were still there, right where he had left them. It had not been a dream, as he had hoped it had been. At this, Draco realized why he had not woken in the night: his sleep had been plagued by enough strange dreams to keep his troubled mind satisfied for the time being.

He kept dreaming that it was his wedding day, and that he was standing at the altar, waiting for the bride to come. The Dark Lord was standing there next to him, and was ready to officiate the wedding. Draco could remember that he wore a ridiculously small top hat, and it was at that point that Draco had realized he was dreaming. The Dark Lord would surely never wear such a silly thing.

There were a few different variations of the dream. In the first, Chris was a bridesmaid, and Draco knew that he was to marry Pansy. However, when Pansy's father walked her down the aisle, the dream deteriorated and started all over again. This time, _Pansy_ was the bridesmaid, and Chris was nowhere to be seen. When the arrival of the bride was announced, Draco saw that Eric Murray was walking her towards him. Because of that, he assumed that the bride was Chris, but when he looked through the veil, he found that he was wrong. It was Pansy again. Draco glanced over her shoulder to where he was certain he had seen Pansy standing before, but Chris had taken her position once again as the bridesmaid.

The last variation of the dream that he experienced was quite different from the first two. In _this_ one, he was standing at the altar and waiting for the bride again, but there was snickering amongst the wedding guests. Someone then tapped him on the shoulder from behind, and he came face to face with Harry Potter, who was chuckling as well.

"Excuse me, but you're standing in my place," he had told Draco with a false smile. "You're supposed to be standing over _here_."

Draco was then forced to move away from the altar and take up his position as the Best Man, which was also ridiculous. He knew that he would _never_ be Potter's Best Man at a wedding. He was then forced to watch as Chris was walked down the aisle and wed to Potter by the Dark Lord, which was another thing that he was pretty sure would never actually happen in real life.

Draco had then decided that he'd seen enough, and forced himself into consciousness. As he lay in his bed, he thought about his dreams, and about how absurd they had been. But, then again, there was some underlying truth to them, which only caused him to worry further.

He knew that he would either end up marrying Chris or Pansy, depending on how he broke the idea of marriage to Chris. If he did it wrong, then she would call off the wedding, and he would be stuck with Pansy. Who would _Chris_ end up marrying, though? Cynthia and Eric surely had a back-up plan for her too, didn't they? It was too bad that he had forgotten to ask his mother about it last night.

Draco furrowed his brows as he considered the last dream of the three. Potter. Where did _he_ stand in all this? Would Chris maybe reject the entire idea of an arranged marriage, forsake her parents, and pursue a life with Potter? Unfortunately, it was very probable.

However, the last words she had spoken about Potter came to mind. She had called him a nasty name behind his back, and then told Draco that she found him quite annoying at times. By the sounds of it, she and Potter only got along when he got his way and when he _had_ his way with her.

Feeling in a better mood already, he decided that he would go wash up, and then hunt down Chris to see where they stood today. Perhaps their situation would be better than it had been in the previous little while.

As he showered, an idea struck him. He thought about the technique that he was executing when approaching Chris about their past, and knew why she found it bothersome. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He was _asking_ her to forget the past, and by doing so, he was only _reminding_ her of the past. Perhaps he should attempt a different approach.

He decided that he would not mention anything unsavory that she did not wish to acknowledge happened. To help his plight even further, he would go back to treating her the way that he had before the entire affair happened, so as to restore their friendship.

He got out of the shower, and dressed as fast as he could. Distracted by his grumbling stomach, he decided that he would make a quick trip to the dining room and eat something first, having not done so since the day before last. Besides, if he was hungry, he might not be able to fully concentrate on the task he had set for himself.

As he stepped out into the hallway, however, he was once again distracted. This time, it was not by a recurrent bodily demand, but by a sound he had not heard within his home in quite some time, if at _all_ before.

He stood as still as he could outside his bedroom door, and listened with a rapt ear. He furrowed his brows as he thought of what he was hearing. He knew that it was a piano, but where was it coming from?

The sound seemed to be coming from the direction away from the stairs - further towards Chris' bedroom. However, as he passed her bedroom, he could see through the open door that it was unoccupied. The sound was still coming from further up the hallway, and he continued on in his search for its origin.

He went around a bend in the corner, and saw that one of the rooms near the end of this hallway was also open. Concluding that this was to be his destination, he carried on up the hallway. As he moved closer, he discovered that the music was, indeed, coming from this very room. He approached the doorway with a light foot, and chanced a glance in around the frame.

As he had suspected, it was Chris that sat in front of the piano, her hands moving leisurely over the ebony and ivory keys. He wondered why she had never before told him that she played, for there was no reason against her to do so. She played fairly well, and was able to carry a tune.

Draco moved through the door and leaned against the bit of empty wall closest to it. The song she played echoed through the room, and Draco found it very easy to just stand back and watch her as she went about her way with the composition.

The song picked up in tempo, and an avalanche of notes cascaded through Draco's mind. He closed his eyes, savoring the sound, as Chris' fingers began to soar over the keys. As suddenly as the song's culmination had begun, it came to a near halt as the song entered its final refrain, and then slowly came to an end. There was silence for a moment, and then Chris began to randomly hit the keys, as though waiting for her fingers to find a familiar melody or song to instigate.

Before they had a chance to, though, Draco announced his presence. "That was brilliant."

As he suspected she would, she leapt slightly where she sat and glanced over her shoulder in alarm. When she saw that it was only him, she clasped a hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. "Draco, you startled me."

"Sorry," he took the fact that she had not given him the cold shoulder or snapped at him as a sign that he could approach her. "I mean it, though. You play beautifully. What _was_ that?"

"The song?" Chris asked, to which Draco nodded. "Rachmaninov's Prelude."

"It sounds ... sinister," Draco smiled, leaning on the side of the piano. "I like it. Who taught you to play the piano, anyway? Surely, your parents didn't."

Chris shook her head, beginning to hit random keys again. "No, my grandfather taught me when I was little, before he died."

"He taught you to play this well when you were _young_?" Draco asked, incredulous. "How old were you, exactly?"

"Eight," she answered. "He didn't teach me everything, though. I had only learned the basics when he fell ill with Schizophrenia."

Draco didn't know what the illness was, but he could see by her disturbed expression that it was not pleasant. "So, after he passed, you taught _yourself_ to play?"

She shook her head. "No, Prelude is the only song that I can remember. My mother had pushed me to continue playing after my grandfather died. She said that when I played, it was like he was still around, and it made it easier for her to grieve his death. It helped me, too. I felt as though I was keeping him alive. I kind of regret not continuing to play after I started at Hogwarts."

Draco allowed for a short silence between them, and then chuckled as he thought of an embarrassing old fact about himself. "Can you keep a secret?"

Chris considered him, and then smiled and nodded.

"When I was younger, my mother tried to push me into the arts," Draco began, smiling in remembrance. "My father hated it. He said that it was not very masculine, and that it was going to affect me in the long run."

He paused as Chris burst into laughter, and then allowed her enough time to gather herself before continuing. "I didn't play an instrument, though. My mom pushed me into the choir."

Chris gaped at him. "You used to _sing_?"

"Yeah," his cheeks flushed as he admitted it. "I hated it, but I was pretty all right, I guess. That was a long time ago, though. I had to stop when I went to Hogwarts, too."

"Why didn't you join the Hogwarts choir?"

"That's a joke," Draco laughed. "I couldn't. I had to stop it altogether. I had hit puberty, and my voice changed. I didn't sound as good as I used to, according to my mother. Besides, can you actually imagine _me_, in the Hogwarts choir? I would've been the laughing stock of the school."

Chris chuckled, hitting a few more keys. "Which part did you sing? Baritone? Tenor?"

"No," He then mumbled something incoherent, his cheeks deepening in color. He realized that Chris had not heard him, and so he repeated himself. "Soprano."

Chris registered what he had said, and then erupted into laughter again, gasping for air as she spoke. "Soprano, Draco? _Soprano_?"

"Hey, shut up," Draco frowned deeply, speaking over her laughter. "Like I said, I hated it. My mom forced me to do it."

"Oh, but that's so _cute_!" Chris squealed, beaming at him. "Little Drakie Malfoy singing like an angel! I would have never thought it, now, since your voice is so deep! _Aw_!"

Draco smiled slightly out of embarrassment. He should have made her promise not to laugh, too, along with keeping that piece of information to herself. "Well, whenever you're done..."

Her laughter winded down, and she wiped her eyes clean of a few tears that had managed to form. "Sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to laugh that hard at you. I just find that so ... not _you_."

"And you'll keep it a secret?"

"Of course I will," she held her pinky finger out to him, ready to make her promise concrete.

Draco wrapped his pinky around hers, and then smiled again. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"No problem," Chris replied, looking back at the piano. "Besides, if I told everyone that kind of stuff, I wouldn't get to learn _more_ of it from you."

Draco laughed, indicating towards the piano. "True. So you're going to play more, then?"

Chris thought about it, but then stood up from the piano bench. "Maybe later. I'm hungry. I forgot about lunch once I found this piano."

"I forgot about it, too, when I heard you playing," Draco added as they left the room together. "The sound sure carries well through the hallway."

"Does it?"

"Yeah - oh! Hey, listen," Draco cut himself off as he remembered one of the things that had been on his mind lately. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Chris. What had you done a few night's ago, when the Dark Lord requested your company?"

Chris had pursed her lips, thinking that he was going to bring up something else, but sighed inwardly in relief when he didn't. "I don't know if I should tell you or not. You'll just think I'm an idiot."

"I won't think you're an idiot," Draco shook his head. "Come on. Tell me."

She sighed, and then chuckled shortly as they descended the stairs. "I did what you told me not to do, Draco. I went to check out what was going on in the drawing room."

Draco clucked his tongue in disapproval. "_Chris_..."

"I know, I know," she cut him off. "You don't need to give me the whole spiel. I know better, now."

They entered the dining room, and paused their conversation as they each found a seat.

"So, what made you decide to do that?" Draco asked after taking a meal from a house elf. "And especially after I specifically told you _not_ to?"

"Well, it's quite strange, really," Chris spoke through a mouthful of food, pointing her fork at him. "When I was leaving the dining room, I heard someone being tortured."

"Yeah, I heard that too," Draco shuddered, playing with his food.

"Yes, maybe, but you didn't hear what _I_ heard," Chris told him. "I recognized the man's voice, and I _had_ to go look."

Draco's eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "You _knew_ him?"

"Yeah, it's the weirdest thing," Chris nodded, plunging more food into her already full mouth. "I recognized the voice from that nightmare I used to have."

"Nightmare?" Draco repeated, but then gaped at her as he remembered her telling him about it near the end of their fourth year at Hogwarts. "The man that they were torturing was the man on the other side of the wall?"

She nodded in confirmation, and then swallowed. "Yeah, it was! So, and I'm sure you understand now, I _had_ to go have a look. I _had_ to know who this man was."

"I have to admit, I would have probably done the same thing," Draco agreed with her reasoning. "Do you still have the dream, now? You hadn't mentioned it again since that first time you told me about it."

Chris thought about it, and then hummed in thought. "I had it up until a few nights ago. It hasn't come back, ever since I talked to the Dark Lord. Sometimes I get a few nights of peace, but this feels different. I don't think that the nightmares are coming back at all."

Draco furrowed his brows, for he did not understand how the Dark Lord could have possibly helped her get rid of her unpleasant dreams. "Why? Was it something that the Dark Lord said to you?"

Chris shook her head. "No, I don't think so. He didn't really say anything to me; just asked me a few questions, is all, about how I knew the man. I think it's because I know that he's dead."

Draco stared at her. He didn't understand how she could not be more curious about the entire situation, knowing that the man in her nightmares was real, and had been killed by the Death Eaters for something that he had done. "You know that for sure?"

"Yes," she answered right away. "The Dark Lord granted my mother permission to do whatever she pleased to the man once they were done questioning him. I could tell that she hated him, and I mean _hated_ him. _She_ was the one who was doing most of the torturing. The Dark Lord was doing the questioning."

"Hm," Draco nodded thoughtfully. "What were they questioning him about?"

Chris shrugged apathetically, and commenced to push her food around her plate. "They were looking for someone. Typical Death Eater stuff."

"I see," Draco stated with a definite nod, but something did not seem to add up. Why did Cynthia hate him so much? What had the man done to her that warranted such spite? Draco came to the conclusion that Chris was playing this off for much less than it truly was. He made to voice his opinion on the manner, but was interrupted as Chris began speaking again.

"Well, I can see that _you're_ done, too," she indicated towards his plate. "Come on, I want to go and see if I can remember anymore songs. And, maybe if you're lucky, I'll teach you how to play one."

Draco abandoned his plate, and made to follow Chris from the dining room. "We probably have a book full of sheet music somewhere around here. I could summon a house elf, and tell them to find it for you."

Chris smiled at him, but then shook her head. "Oh no, that's quite all right. I'm happy with just knowing the Prelude and anything else that might come back to me. I _might_ remember Nocturne. It was the song that I played the most, after the Prelude, of course-"

She cut herself off and slowly came to a stop when she saw that Lucius moved steadily towards them down the hallway. Slightly embarrassed because of the circumstances under which they had last met, Chris moved a little closer to Draco in order to easily allow Mr. Malfoy's passing.

However, this was not necessary. Lucius stopped before them, and cleared his throat in a dignified manner. "Good afternoon. I see that you are both well."

Chris and Draco both nodded, waiting for him to speak further.

"I was just upstairs looking for you, Draco," he addressed his son. "I need to speak with you-" his eyes traveled towards Chris. "-_alone_."

Chris looked at Draco quickly before hurriedly smiling and moving on towards the staircase. "I'll meet you up there when you're done."

He nodded, and then made to follow Lucius. As soon as Chris was out of earshot, Draco glared at his father. "Do you _have_ to be so rude to her?"

"She had absolutely no right to listen in on us," Lucius snapped back, silencing his son. "I am quite surprised that she was not punished, though I did not expect that it would happen-"

"Did the Dark Lord even _tell_ you why Chris had done it?" Draco cut him off, trying his best to keep his voice down. "She knew that man, and she was naturally curious as to what he was doing here. She doesn't seem to think that him being here and being tortured by you, mother, the Murrays, and the Dark Lord is a big deal, but _I _think otherwise. Who was he?"

Lucius sneered, and uttered his response through clenched teeth. "_That_, Draco, is absolutely none of your business."

Draco stared after his father as he entered the drawing room. Why was it such a big deal? As Chris had put it, they were only looking for someone else. Why did it have to remain a mystery?  
'_Oh, well, it was worth a shot_,' Draco shrugged in defeat as he followed in his father's wake. He knew that he would not be getting any information out of him. Once his father had decided that something was to remain a secret, a secret it would remain.

After he shut the door behind him, Draco took a look around and found that only he and his father occupied it. He reasoned that the Dark Lord had returned to the Lestrange residence in Norway.

"Now, as I understand," Lucius changed the subject, illuminating the darkened room with a flick of his wand. "Your mother has told you of the wedding arrangements?"

Draco felt a strange wave come over him as he was reminded of his latest worry. "Yes, she did last night."

"Good," Lucius commented as he took a seat on one of the assorted chairs that littered the room's floor. "However, when I met you in the hallway, I noticed that she was not wearing her ring. You gave it to her, didn't you? Or did your mother forget to give them to _you_?"

Draco swallowed hard. "No, she gave them to me. I just, er ... haven't told Chris about all this, yet."

Lucius cocked an eyebrow at him. "No? And why not?"

Draco shrugged in what he hoped appeared to be an apathetic way. "I'm just waiting for the right time to do it. I don't want to spring all this on her."

"But you will do it soon?"

Once again, Draco shrugged. "I don't know. If I _can_, I will."

Lucius stared at him. Draco knew that he was not entirely satisfied with his answer. "All right, then. I'll let you go."

Draco nodded in his father's direction, and then made for the double doors. When he reached them, however, he was halted as Lucius spoke his name once again.

"Draco."

"Yes?"

"_Do_ try to curb her curiosity," Lucius requested, standing from his seat. "I have the feeling that the next time Christina does something like what she did, he will not be so lenient."

Draco nodded again, and then left. He did not wish to speak a word further about Chris with his father. He knew that his father had not yet considered the fact that Chris had recognized the man they were torturing, and Draco had his doubts that he ever would. He was aware of the fact that his father would rather dismiss Chris as meddlesome than actually think about her motives for doing what she had done.

"I'm sorry about that," Draco spoke as he entered the room he and Chris had discovered earlier that day. "I know that he came off as a pleasant person when you first met him, but that's what he's _really_ like."

"Don't worry about it," Chris told him, patting the bench as she slid further down it. "I don't mind. I'll just stay out of his way."

Draco took a seat next to her. "That's probably a good idea. Give him some time, and he'll warm up to you. This is a little snug, isn't it?"

Even with half of his left buttock off the seat, their hips still pressed against one another.

"Yeah, maybe," she agreed, and then shifted over a little further. "Here. Is that better?"

Draco nodded. He did not wish to voice the fact that he had enjoyed the physical contact they just shared.

"Now, I'm going to teach you how to play the Prelude," Chris told him, and then put her hands on the keys. "Put your hands right where mine are."

Chris moved hers so that he could do so, but he quickly forgot where they had been. "Er..."

"Here," she sighed in mock irritation as she told a hold of his hands and put them where they belonged on the piano. "Now, when you hit this first note, hit it hard."

"All right," Draco agreed as she took her hands away. He wished that _his_ hadn't started to sweat right at her touch. He tried to ignore his beating heart, and the thoughts inside his head that rapidly repeated the fact that they had made further physical contact. "Here goes nothing."

He gave it a try. He thought that he had done fairly well with it, but Chris shook her head. "No, not hard enough. Like _this_."

Draco moved his hands so that she could show him. She hit the note, and then gestured for Draco to try again. He moved to do so, but paused as a thought came to him. Feigning to have forgotten where his hands should be, he waited for Chris to assist him again.

She did, but not without clucking her tongue and giving him a look of playful annoyance. "Now, just do what _I_ did."

Draco nodded, and tried once again. He looked at Chris expectantly, waiting for her approval. He suspected that, just like the last time, he had not done it hard enough.  
She bit her bottom lip in thought, and then looked back at him when she grew aware of his gaze. A small smile, though closer to a grimace, came over her as she shook her head.

Draco hung his head dramatically with a sigh, and smiled in amusement. "Am I a lost cause?"

"No," Chris answered right away. "You're doing better than Harry was, when I tried to teach this song to _him_-"

She suddenly stopped speaking, and her gaze left Draco. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't mention him while I'm here."

"Yeah, maybe not," Draco told her, putting his fingers back onto the keys. "You don't want _them_ to find out that you're dating him, do you?"

"Of course not," she shook her head. "I can't even _imagine_ the trouble that I would be in, or what I might be forced to do. But, you know, I knew about those dangers when I started to date him. I guess I've chosen to live with them."

Draco nodded, wondering if he should ask her what was on his mind. It did not seem to be an appropriate question, now that there was a possibility she might know his mind when it came to her.

He never _could_ conceal himself from her, though, and she soon realized that his bout of silence indicated that he wished to ask her something. "What is it?"

"Hm?" he looked down at his fingers. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

"No, come on, Draco," she prodded him. "Out with it."

"It's just a dumb question," Draco mumbled under his breath, hitting a few of the keys nervously as she moved in a little closer to hear him.

"Draco, so long as it isn't about - _that one time_ - I want to hear it."

"It isn't about that," Draco shook his head.

"Then I want to hear it," she repeated herself.

Draco looked over at her. She now leaned forward onto the piano, waiting for him to ask his question. With a small grumble, he jerked his head in a way that almost resembled a nod. "Fine. As you know, Chris, the Dark Lord wants us to join his ranks as soon as we are out of Hogwarts."

Chris looked down at the piano, and bit her bottom lip as she nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I know that."

"I was just wondering what you're going to do about that," Draco continued after glancing over his shoulder towards the door to make sure that no one was listening in on them. "I mean, with Potter. Are you going to get out of the Death Eaters, and go with _him_ instead?"

Chris furrowed her brows as she thought. "That's difficult to say. Right now, I'm not leaning towards joining the Death Eaters, but whether I go with Harry or not is still up for debate."

Draco felt his heart skip a beat, but he managed to keep his exterior calm. "What do you mean?"

Chris glanced up at him. "Well, you saw what we're like, back on the train. We don't even talk anymore. It's always, well, he only seems to be after one thing, anymore."

"Well, it must suck being him, right now," Draco reminded her. "I can't even fathom what it would be like to have the Dark Lord after you, and thinking about you all the time ... thinking about how he's going to kill you, and how he's going to make you and those around you suffer-"

"Draco, stop," Chris whispered with a shudder. "Don't say that. _I_ would be one of those people that he would make suffer. I don't even think that he'd give a moment's hesitation, after I was caught eavesdropping on him and our parents."

Draco pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," she told him with a small smile. "It's the sad truth, and it's _my_ truth. Like I said, I considered it before I began to date Harry. But, even _that_ is starting to feel like a mistake."

Draco frowned at her. He didn't know if he had heard her right. "What?"

She sighed, and then turned to fully face him on the small bench they shared. "Sometimes I just think that we should have stayed friends, Harry and I. I mean, I feel for him, obviously, but I think that we picked a really bad time to grow close. Sirius had just passed on, and Harry had just found out about the prophecy. He knew that it had to be _him_ that killed the Dark Lord, and - and I think that it was just too much for him. He changed a lot during that summer. A _lot_.

"But, me being the fool that I am, I thought that he would be all right-" Chris paused, allowing for those initial words to ring through her mind. "I'm a fool for getting myself into this situation, aren't I, Draco?"

She exhaled heavily, and ran her hands down her cheeks in stress. Draco felt an overpowering compulsion pushing him to hold and comfort her. It was only with colossal effort that he managed to restrain himself. "You're not a fool. Don't talk such nonsense-"

"No, but, Draco, think about it," Chris closed her eyes, trying to think harder. "If I join the Death Eaters, I lose my friends. If I don't, I have to forsake my parents, and I will most likely aid in their destruction. Not to mention..."

She paused awkwardly, and Draco waited for her to go on.

She did so, but he could barely hear her. "If I renounce the Death Eaters, I'll lose _you_."

This statement made Draco's heart contract in a way that was almost painful. "Now, Chris-"

He wanted to tell her that she would never lose him, but he did not know if that was true. If she decided to fight against the Death Eaters, then there was no way that he could follow her, as much as he wanted to.

Chris pinched the bridge of her nose and clenched her eyes shut. "See, you know it, too. I _can't_ lose you, Draco. You're probably the best friend that I've ever had."

This seemed to be all that she could take. She averted her gaze and bit her bottom lip again. This time, however, she was not deep in thought. She was trying to fight back tears.

When it seemed as though she could no longer hold herself back, Draco wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her. She clutched him back, to Draco's relief, and he could feel her worries beginning to weigh down on _him_ as he alleviated some of the burden.

"I just don't know what to do, Draco," she spoke into his ear. "It seems that becoming a Death Eater would most benefit me, since I have less to lose if I align myself with the Dark Lord. But, I just can't bring myself to actually go through and _do_ it. What do _you_ think I should do?"

He wished that she hadn't asked him. He did not want to admit the truth. "I can't help you, Chris. My answer is biased. Well, _everyone's_ is biased. _No one_ can tell you. You have to figure it all out on your own; without help."

With this statement, Chris moved away and looked up at him. "_You_ can't?"

"I told you," Draco shook his head. "Everyone's answers will be biased. Your parents and I will tell you to stay here. Your friends will tell you to help _them_ as they struggle against the Death Eaters alongside the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix."

Chris thought about what he'd said, and then nodded. "But you - _you_ want me to stay here?"

Draco hesitated before nodding. The thought of telling her about the arranged marriage bubbled to the surface of his mind, but he quickly squashed it. She had enough to think about at the moment. "I just don't want to go it alone."

The image of Draco working alongside masked man upon ruthless man as only a naive boy struck Chris. The thoughts of the loneliness that he would feel and the gradual degradation of the remainder of his youthful innocence were enough to leave a lead weight in her abdomen.

She reached out to hold him again and, to his surprise, he felt her plant a small kiss on his cheek. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, Draco, but I'm not going to let you go by yourself. If I have to drag you out of here, or join the Death Eaters myself, then I'll do it."

They both knew that her promise would most likely turn out to be an empty and unfulfilled one. "I just can't imagine living my life without you constantly by my side, Draco. One year was long enough without you. You're the only one that laughs at my jokes, and who keeps all my secrets. Hell, you even go out of your way to be _nice_ to me, though, I _do_ suppose that it took a few years for me to drill some manners into you. But, that's beside the point. You don't treat anyone else like this, Draco, and I really appreciate it. I honestly, truly do."

Draco glanced down at her as she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder and her arms around him. He wanted to say those exact words back to her, but he knew that when _he_ said them, they took on an entire new meaning.

Of course, no matter which way he looked at it - whether she said them, or he did - they could still be summed up into those three, small, forbidden words. Those words nearly burnt the tip of his tongue; he wished to speak them so strongly. However, though he had practiced it time and time again inside his head and in front of a mirror, now that he was in the midst of the situation, he could not work up the courage to say them to her for the life of him.


	11. Beyond Laughter

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XI: BEYOND LAUGHTER

-- -- -- -- --

Chris shifted in her lawn chair, listening with declining attentiveness as Draco splashed around in his backyard pool. The weather had finally come through for them, though quite later in the year than usual. Draco assured her that, in the region, the rain would typically lift in the first or second week of July. This year, however, it was nearing on the beginning of August when the sun finally came out alone and without any of its usual, grey escorts.

Though not one to regularly tan, Chris could hardly resist the temptation of the sun's warm rays. As she lay in the lawn chair that she had occupied, she could have nearly fallen sleep in the comfort of the hot day.

That was, of course, until she heard the sounds of beating wings. She furrowed her brows, and then opened her eyes. The sound had begun in the distance, and she had easily been able to disregard it. However, as it moved steadily closer to where she lay, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. She sat up to further investigate, but immediately wished that she hadn't.

She emitted a small scream of surprise as the source of the sound was explained, and in very close proximity. "_Owls_!"

Draco, who had casually observed the owls fly closer and closer to where they were, roared with laughter as he watched Chris. The owls had begun to circle her, and she tried her best to clear them away with one arm working against them and the other protecting her face.

The owls finally dropped what they had been carrying onto the granite beside her chair, and flew back into the sky. Chris glowered after them, but her dangerous glance was soon relocated towards Draco.

"Some help _you_ are," she grumbled as Draco approached her, having climbed out of the pool. Draco's unrelenting laughter prevented him from replying, causing her to roll her eyes in irritation. Trying her best to ignore him, she turned her attention to what the owls had delivered.

"One for me, and one for you," she mumbled, handing one of the two packages over to him without taking her eyes off her own. Her initial confusion alleviated when she realized what had finally come. "Draco, it's our exam marks!"

Without further hesitation, she ripped her envelope open. Draco's laughter immediately died, and he followed suit.

"Oh, please, please, please ... yes!" he exclaimed as a wide grin came over him. "No more Prefect duties. Listen to this: _'Mr. Malfoy, the position of Prefect that you previously held is no longer yours. Due to your inefficiency in the past year, it has not been a hard decision to...'_ -I'll just skip over that. That's boring- _'The position has been passed on to a fifth year student named-'_ Isn't that great? I'm out! I'm _free_!"

Chris had only been half-listening to him as he rattled on, for she was far too busy flipping through the stack of paper that she had received in her envelope, in search for her exam marks. Her letter from Professor McGonagall welcoming her back to Hogwarts and her supply lists could wait.

She finally found what she was looking for at the bottom of the stack. However, as soon as she saw it, she held it against her chest so that she couldn't read it. "Oh, I can't look! Here, Draco, _you_ tell me what it says!"

She held her paper out to him, and he took it. Chris bit down nervously onto her knuckle as she waited for him to enlighten her as to whether or not she had been successful that year. As he looked up and down the paper, his ominous frown became more and more harrowed.

"Oh God, I did awful, didn't I?" she asked in a small voice.

Draco looked up at her. "You got a T in _everything_, Chris. It says here at the bottom that you're going to have to go talk to McGonagall when we get back to the castle. She needs to talk to you about your options."

Chris felt her stomach drop unpleasantly before her whole body began to numb. "My options?"

Draco commenced reading her paper. "It says here that you might need to repeat the sixth year-"

Chris gasped, and then made to grab her report. "Let me see that!"

Draco let her take it, but could no longer maintain the frown that he had been feigning. It was only a few seconds before Chris looked back up at him. "That wasn't funny."

Draco laughed, avoiding her as she swung at him. "You are _so_ gullible-! _Ouch_! Stop it-"

Chris dropped her paper and concentrated all of her effort towards hitting every inch of Draco that she could reach. "I am _not_ gullible, Draco! I _trusted_ you, is all! That's - why - I - listened - to - you-"

Her anger and annoyance slowly diminished, and she stopped hitting him. Draco chanced a glance up at her, and when he was completely sure that she was done, he commenced to study his own marks.

"Let me see that," Chris snatched his paper away from him before he could get a good look, and her eyes flitted across the page. She looked down the column of teacher's comments, and could hardly stifle a giggle. Imitating the slow, forbidding voice of the Potions master, she began to read. "_'Mr. Malfoy, it appears to me that, not only do you not know a wolf fang from a werewolf fang, but you have a complete disregard towards time. In your final exam, you mistakenly put a werewolf fang into your Hair-Removal Potion, and left the cauldron to simmer for one hour, instead of one minute. When I went to grade your Potion, the unstable contents unexpectedly detonated. I felt compelled to give you a P, but since your Potion succeeded in fully removing my eyebrows, I bestow you with an A.'_"

Chris looked up at Draco, and knew that they were both envisioning the same thing, that being Professor Snape staring into a mirror and realizing that his eyebrows were, indeed, absent. As his potential facial expression haunted their mind's eye, they simultaneously succumbed to laughter.

Chris glanced back down at his report, and her laughter was heightened as she read another of his comments. "Listen to this one, Draco: '_Mr. Malfoy, your progress in Charms this year has been non-existent, at best. You need to learn how to control your inclination towards engaging in social reverie when I am teaching a lesson. Your proclivity mirrored itself in your final exam, as I am sure you'll remember. I will have you know that, when I was issuing your grade, I took into full consideration the fact that the pile of sticks you were supposed to bewitch to dance across the desk in unison decided to assault me, instead.'_ My _goodness_, Draco! Did you have a bad year, or what? Pretty much _all_ of your comments are like this!"

"Oh, really?" Draco didn't sound as amused now. "What did I get docked for in Transfiguration?"

Chris' eyes scanned Professor McGonagall's comment. "It says here that the rat you transformed into a tortoise developed some terrible form of a gastrointestinal infection, and completely destroyed her office."

"Come on!" Draco stared at Chris in outrage. "How can _that_ be _my_ fault?"

"It doesn't say," Chris smiled as she thought of poor McGonagall's austere glower as she moved about her office, cleaning up the mess that Draco's tortoise had left. "Oh - she didn't dock any marks from you, though. She was just making a note of it."

Draco wiped his brow in mock relief, and then indicated towards Chris' paper. "Let me see _yours_, then."

She handed it to him without hesitation, along with his own. "Am I going to be able to believe you, this time?"

He smirked at her. "I'm sure that I won't need to fabricate that kind of stuff."

"I think that you will," Chris crossed her arms in defiance. "I'll have you know that I had a good year, even though there _were_ distractions."

"You might want to be careful about mentioning him," Draco mumbled without looking up from her report. "Our mothers have their eyes on us."

"Really?" Chris looked around. "Where are they?"

"In the sitting room over there," Draco nodded in the general direction, and then looked back down at Chris' report, scouring it for a negative comment.

Chris looked over to where Draco had indicated, and saw her mother and Narcissa looking back at her. She gave them a small wave and a smile, and then turned back to Draco after they had each returned it.

"See? _I_ didn't get any bad comments," Chris stated as Draco handed the report back to her. "So, what do you think they're watching us for?"

Draco shrugged, and didn't say anything. He had a very good feeling that they were envisioning what Chris and Draco would be like, once the marriage plans had gone through. To distract himself from the fact that two weeks had now gone by and he _still_ had not told her about what was expected to happen between them, he began to read his own comments. He chuckled once again at Professor Snape's comment, but realized that he would not be getting away with not answering Chris' question.

When he looked back up at her, her hands were on her hips and she appeared to know that he _did_ have a solution to her question. "Come on, then. Out with it. I know you've got an answer somewhere up in that bloated head of yours."

Draco paused, thinking. "Who says that they need a reason to watch us out the window? They're probably just making sure that we don't try to drown each other, or something."

Chris looked back over at them, and thought that he maybe told the truth. However, through the window, she could see her mother look indicatively towards her, and then whisper something into Narcissa's ear. Together, they then began to giggle.

"I don't know, Draco," she had more than a hint of skepticism in her voice. "I think that something's up, and I have a funny idea that you _do_ know. But - whatever, if you don't want to tell me, then fine. Keep your secrets ... for now. I'm on to you-"

Chris was interrupted as she heard a door open, followed by her mother and Narcissa's voices. She and Draco turned their attention towards their mothers to find that they eyed Chris and Draco's school reports in anticipation.

"May I see, Christina?" Cynthia asked as she approached.

Chris saw out of the corner of her eye that Draco tried to keep his own report out of his mother's sight, but did not succeed. "Draco, I want to see how you did. Don't try to hide it from me, I can see it behind your back, there. _Give it to me_ - oh, why do we have to do this _every year_? Do you want me to go get your _father_?"

Draco hesitated in holding the contents of his envelope out of her reach, and glanced over at Chris. She gave him a smug smile as her mother glanced over her marks. "Well done, Christina. Though, I wish that you had done better in History of Magic-"

"I'll still be able to get into seventh year History, mom," Chris reassured her. It's only an A. I'll do better this year. I promise."

"I would hope so," Cynthia clucked her tongue. "You know that your father and I expect nothing less than an E from you. Your comment from Professor Binns is good, though ... _'a pleasure to teach'_ ... _'shows a wonderful level of conscientiousness' _... well done this year. I'm very proud of you. I'll show this to your father once he returns from Norway later this afternoon."

"I worked hard this year," Chris told her mother, but winked in Draco's direction when Cynthia looked back down at the piece of parchment. He still struggled against his mother, who was beginning to grow pink in the cheeks from suppressed anger. "So, Draco, what did Professor Binns say on _your_ report?"

"If he would give it to me-" Narcissa snarled, and then finally managed to seize Draco's report card. "_Ha_! Now, let's see ... History of Magic. Ah, here we are."

"Mom, don't read it aloud," Draco spoke to her in an embarrassed undertone.

"Nonsense, I'm sure it's fine," she smiled gently at him, and then commenced to read Draco's comment. As she read along, her smile widened, and she nodded in approval. Surprised at this, Chris and Draco exchanged a quick glance. Draco wondered if he had miraculously managed to scrape a good mark and comment, but Chris knew otherwise. She had seen his mark while in possession of his report.

Chris and Draco continued to watch Narcissa as she read, and Chris began to assume that Draco actually _had_ obtained Professor Binns' personal approval at some point in the semester. However, as Narcissa went on, her smile completely faded, and her eyes widened as she grew livid. Draco sensed the impending explosion, and was quick to move away from his mother. He joined Chris' side, and waited for it to come.

"Draco!" she barked, looking up at him. "Would you care to explain this comment to me?"

Draco glanced over at Chris, begging for her to save him. She, however, had averted her eyes to the ground, so as to avoid bursting out in laughter. "Sure. Let me see it-"

"No!" Narcissa held the parchment closer to her. "I can read it to you."

"Mother, please-"

Narcissa cut him off, beginning to read the comment aloud in a vociferous way. "_'Mr. Malfoy, you are truly one of the best students that I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Your wit is absolutely charming, and you only exercise it at the most appropriate of times. I believe that you have completely grasped every single concept explored in this subject-'_"

Draco was surprised. "I don't see what the big deal is. That sounds pretty good to me-!"

Narcissa glared at him, compelling him to stop talking. "I'm not done yet. _'However, as you have probably noticed by now, I was not the only teacher in the classroom this year. All of my previous words were the product of something that I learned from YOU this year: sarcasm. I can honestly say that I have never taught such a rude student before. It blows me away, that someone who has absolutely no interest in the subject at this point in his school career would take it, when the course is an elective. I have to admit, when I first saw your name on the roster in September, I was skeptical towards your well being in this course. By October, I knew that your decision to enroll in History of Magic had been a mistake of epic proportion on your part. The fact that you spent the majority of your time discussing trivial manners with anyone within your desk's range has not just affected your mark, but caused a cone effect around you. Not only was your time spent in my classroom a complete waste of time, but those that fell victim to you as a distraction are now dimmer for having had you there. Since it is against the teacher's conduct to directly tell you this, I hope that you pick up the message: I do NOT - I repeat - NOT recommend that you take this class in your seventh and final year at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_"

Narcissa finished reading Draco's comment, and looked up at him expectantly. However, Draco was not in any condition to speak. He stared back at her, his mouth agape and eyes wide in shock. Chris couldn't even find it in herself to laugh, and Cynthia was completely stunned that a schoolteacher would leave such a nasty remark on a student's report.

Chris remembered vividly that Draco had not been a good student at all in History of Magic, which was why she was incredibly curious as to what Professor Binns had left on his report. She had wondered if, through Binns' monotonous drone, he had actually noticed that Draco never once put pen to paper, and only chatted to his neighbors during the entire period. She too had pondered from time to time as to why he had taken the course, and during the year, she had grown to detest the fact that he had. She had sat three desks away from him in the class, and had become one of the people in Draco's so-called cone effect of failure.

Chris looked up at Draco, waiting for his response, along with their mothers. For a split second, Chris could almost see a piece of Ron in Draco as he cowered before his angry mother.

Narcissa shook her head. She knew that there was no explanation that Draco could give her; Professor Binns had said it all. "Go. Just ... _go_, Draco."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but his voice faltered. He hung his head in shame, and then trudged his way back towards the back door of the Manor.

"Erm," Chris hung her head as well, embarrassed for Draco. "Maybe I'll go, too."

"Yes," Narcissa replied, her voice now hollow. "Go talk some respect into that boy of mine."

Chris nodded, and then made to follow Draco. Her thoughts went immediately to Lucius, and his impending reaction. What would _he_ do to Draco?

There was no sign of Draco on the main floor, so Chris made her way upstairs. She found that his bedroom door was shut, and, as she recalled, Draco had left it open when they had made their way down to the backyard. She paused outside the door, wondering if she should bother him. She could hear him moving about within, and decided that he could do with her company.

When she knocked on his door, the sounds of movement stopped, and his voice came. "Who is it?"

"It's me; Chris," she spoke through the door.

There was another pause. "Oh. Come in."

She let herself in, and looked around to find that he was no longer in the main room. She moved in, and heard him bustling about in his closet. He came out a moment later, pulling a t-shirt over his head. She gave him a reassuring smile when he looked at her, but he only bustled past her and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

He leaned forward onto his knees, and ran his hands through his hair as he emitted a long sigh. "_That_ sucked. And that was just my _mother's_ reaction."

Chris sat down next to him. "Don't worry, I'm sure that it'll be fine."

She couldn't even manage to _try_ and make herself sound convincing.

Draco sneered and crossed his arms. "Well, I hope that Professor Binns is happy. He probably just set me up for the beating of my life. He doesn't have to worry about me taking his class next year. As far as I'm concerned, I won't even _look_ at him again. What did I get for a mark in the class, anyways? Probably not very good."

"Er - no," Chris shook her head. "Troll."

"I figured, with that comment," he glanced up at her. "Damn it. I _knew_ that I should have dropped that course, too. I don't even know what made me take it."

"You'll be all right, Draco," Chris placed her hand on his knee. "Just get past your father, and it'll be smooth sailing. But, I have to say, you've kind of brought this on yourself."

"So, what, you're saying that I _deserve _whatever my father will throw my way?"

"No," Chris quickly answered. "I'm just saying that Professor Binns, well, he was telling the truth."

Draco stared at her in disbelief. "I figured that you'd be on _my_ side for this one. What about that cone thing that he was talking about? Is _that_ true?"

Chris averted her gaze. "Kind of. Well, I could never hear Binns over you. But, that doesn't matter to me right now. I care about you, and even if I saw this coming, I don't actually _want_ you to be beaten. The best thing that you can do is promise not to take the course again. That way, I can go for an O on my NEWT exam in that class."

To her relief, Draco smiled. Even though it was barely visible, she would accept it.

"Listen," Chris stood up. "I'm going to go get dressed, and then I'll come back, all right?"

He nodded, still staring at the floor. He listened to her footsteps as she walked away, and remained in his position for several seconds before standing up as well. Now that Chris was gone and there was complete silence, he could hear voices coming from outside his window.

He slowly made his way towards it, and opened the window as discretely as he could. His mother and Cynthia had remained in the backyard after he and Chris had returned inside. His heart began to pound. What else did his mother have to say?

"I think that you should keep this from Lucius."

Draco stood up straighter, and his innards bounced in excited anxiety. Gathering control over himself, he listened with a rapt ear and crossed his fingers.

"You think that would be a good idea?" Narcissa asked Cynthia. "Maybe Lucius would knock some sense into the boy."

"Did you see him, though?" Cynthia replied, gesturing towards the house. "He was completely devastated. I think that he's gone through enough. _Don't_ tell Lucius, Narcissa."

Narcissa paused in silence. "I don't know, Cynthia. If he _hasn't_ learned his lesson ... how will he _ever_ be successful, if he can't respect figures of authority?"

Cynthia clucked her tongue and placed a hand on Narcissa's shoulder. "Narcissa, Draco _will_ be successful. Even though he has a sense of, well, _rebellion_, towards his teachers, I am sure that he will be wise enough to express nothing short of deference towards the Dark Lord."

Narcissa fidgeted, and mumbled something incoherent.

"Besides, it all depends on how you measure success," Cynthia continued when she realized that her previous words had had no visible effect on Narcissa. "Draco is a very charming boy, even though he chooses not to show it sometimes. Because of that, he will surely capture Christina's heart, if he hasn't already. I believe that he will make a _wonderful _husband and father to my daughter and their future children."

Draco's heart leapt at these words, and he continued to listen in.

"You think so?" his mother was growing more optimistic.

Cynthia nodded, completely sincere. "Yes. I mean, you've seen what _I've_ seen. They haven't been one without the other for the past two weeks. That was the last time that I saw them separated. They're attached at the hip, those two. I actually can't believe that they haven't taken their friendship further, yet! You'd think that, in the spirit of the wedding, they would have by now."

There it was again: the arranged marriage. All the happiness that Draco had felt within him dissipated at its mention.

There was silence between the two women.

"Perhaps they're hiding it from us," Narcissa suggested in a quieter tone. "We should keep a closer eye-"

Draco could see that Cynthia was shaking her head. "No, I don't think so, Narcissa. I think that we should back off, and let them sort it out alone. We may be slowing things down, by keeping them under observation."

"All right," Narcissa hesitantly agreed. "But wasn't it _you_ that was just saying that you should get Chris to try on your wedding dress, to make sure that it fit?"

Draco's palms began to sweat. If Cynthia approached Chris about that, it would be more than just his parents that he would be in trouble with.

"Yes, but I have decided against it," Cynthia stated, much to Draco's relief. "I'll admit: I just wanted to see her in a wedding dress. And, well, I wanted to make sure that she wasn't overeating. I wouldn't want her to outgrow the dress. As I recall, I had a _very_ small waist when I married Eric-"

Draco moved away from the window. He had heard enough to ease his troubled mind. His father would not hear about his abysmal marks, and his time to tell Chris about the wedding had been elongated. Though he felt as though time was pressing in on him regarding the issue, he knew that he could not tell her tonight. The thought had been crossing his mind a lot more frequently as of late, and he desired more than ever to just get it out and be done with it.

Once again, though, he didn't know how strong his friendship with Chris was. It seemed to be solid, but past mistakes had proven to him that any friendship was breakable. He didn't know if this arranged marriage possessed the amount of power necessary to end their friendship, or not.

No, he had basically come to the conclusion that, in order to tell Chris about the wedding, he needed to 'capture her heart', as Cynthia had put it. By the way things were going, he reasoned, he was creeping closer and closer towards obtaining this goal, even if she herself did not yet realize it. She no longer gave a second thought towards holding him in lengthy embraces, and kissing him on the cheek. Hell, she had just put her hand on his knee before leaving his room. That had to count for _something_.

He furrowed his brows as he considered this point further. Yes, he was definitely obtaining her affection through a slow and steady progress, but that was just the problem: things were moving too slow. In actuality, he _preferred _the slow building of their potential relationship, but he needed it to move a little bit faster if he didn't want to drive her away with this arranged marriage.

That thought disappointed him. In all the time that he had fantasized about having a serious relationship with this girl, he never thought that it would be like this: he either had to push things along, or risk losing her forever.

Both of his options hit a sour note within him. It just wasn't right, what their parents were pushing them into. It wasn't natural, and he didn't like it one bit.


	12. Deluge Of Delusional Dreams

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XII: DELUGE OF DELUSIONAL DREAMS

-- -- -- -- --

The uncomplicated times that Chris had predicted did not come for Draco. Of course, he had come to realize that his mother had, in fact, kept his deplorable school marks from his father. This was no longer a concern to him, but there was still one other colossal thing on his mind to worry about: the arranged marriage.

Cynthia's desire to have Chris try on her wedding dress had been too close for comfort. Their parents assumed that both he and Chris were aware of the arrangements, and this was very dangerous for Draco's situation. He knew now that he had absolutely no time to wait for when Chris would be pleased to hear of the agreements, for the probability that one of their parents would mention it to her increased everyday.

He had managed to keep Chris away from their mothers ever since he had listened in on their conversation out the window, but he did not know how much longer his secrecy could last. He had to tell her, and soon. And so here he was, standing in the hallway outside her bedroom, and waiting for her to join him. He had just roused her from her sleep, and asked her to go for a walk with him on a trail through the surrounding forest.

Chris greeted him with a wide smile as she came out of her bedroom. "Good afternoon, Gorgeous."

Draco raised his eyebrows, and then scoffed. "_What_ did you just call me?"

She laughed as she began to lead the way towards the staircase. "You heard me."

"Yeah, I did," Draco jogged to catch up to her. "But, how in the _world_ did I get a nickname like _that_?"

Chris shrugged playfully, allowing her wide grin to do the talking for her. "How do you _think_ you got a nickname like that?"

Draco eyed her with suspicion as they exited the Manor through the back door. "Sometimes I just don't know about you. Is it recent?"

Chris considered it. "Not really. I've wanted to call you that before, but I've always bit my tongue. I didn't think that you'd appreciate it. Don't forget: you used to get mad at me just for calling you Sir Malfoy all the time."

"Yes, but that was third year," Draco corrected her. "I was still rather - er..."

"Difficult?" Chris suggested with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, and then decided to change the subject. "If you want to say that, then go ahead. The trail's just up here, Chris."

She looked in the direction that he was pointing, and then nodded. She followed closely behind him as he moved steadily towards the path, but was not able to see the strained expression that Draco had adopted.

He could hardly take it anymore. Didn't she _know_ what this was doing to him? Didn't she _know_ that she was torturing him from the inside out with her new, casual form of flirtatious behavior? Ever since they had returned to speaking terms, it had slowly escalated to the point that it was now at. It was starting to take its toll, and it needed to stop.

"It sure is nice to get out of there for a while," Chris spoke up as she joined his side. "I'm starting to get really sick of our mothers breathing down our necks. You'd think that they'd find something _better _to do with their time, besides bother us."

Draco laughed nervously. "Yeah."

That had been more nerve-racking than anything Chris could throw his way. He had wasted almost all of his energy in trying to keep Chris away from their mothers. It left him with almost no willpower to disregard Chris' innocent advances towards him.

He knew her motive behind them, and knew that if he ever responded, he would be in serious trouble with her again. She acted this way not because she pursued him, but because she felt safe with him. He imagined that being away from her boyfriend for nearly six weeks had left her with her nose slightly out of joint. He had come to the conclusion that, since she could not flirt with Potter during this time, then she would flirt with him instead, since it was 'safe'. In _her_ mind, anyways.

"_Ooh_," Draco started slightly as he felt Chris lightly clutch his hand. "What kind of soap do you use? Whatever's in my shower isn't doing _my_ skin this much good."

Using every scrap of force he had left within himself, he gently pulled his hand away from hers. "I will have you know that we Malfoys have _naturally_ soft skin."

"I don't believe you," she shook her head and placed her hand on his shoulder, compelling him to come to a stop. "Let me see."

She cupped his cheek, and then slowly ran her fingers along his jawbone. Draco could feel a chill coming up his spine, but suppressed it with considerable might.

To his horror, he felt his cheeks growing warmer. Surely, she would notice, and figure out _everything_. He could not push her away, however. His willpower had exhausted, and had been defeated by the compulsion to allow Chris' touch-

"Why are your cheeks pink, Draco?" she asked with a small smile and a chuckle. "You like this?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "I will admit that I do."

He mentally cursed himself. He should _not_ have said that.

He expected her to retract her touch, and maybe even verbally assault him on the subject of his offense. However, her reaction was the complete opposite. She drew away from him, but not in the manner that he had anticipated.

She laughed, and then began to move along the trail once again. "I suppose my mother was right, then."

Bewildered, Draco followed. "Right about what?"

"When I was younger, she told me that that touch could overpower any man," she explained with a grin. "I'd had yet to try it. I figured that I'd choose _you_ to be my victim."

Draco laughed nervously along with her, but began to sweat profusely. That had been way too close. She could have asked him _anything_ in that moment, and he would have poured his soul out to her.

Of course, he should be doing that, anyway. He had brought her out here today to tell her about the arranged marriage. He would be best off to do it soon, before he got too caught up or distracted.

"Listen, Chris, there's something that I need to-"

"Later, Draco," she cut him off, and pointed towards the sky. "Look, a thunderstorm is coming."

Draco slowed to a stop next to her. "I know. I saw it from the backyard. But, really, there's something that-"

"Wait for it," she held her hand up to stop him as a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky. She grinned in delight as the thunder followed after only a few seconds, sending a quiver through the surrounding forest. "Ooh, I _love_ thunderstorms!"

Draco smiled weakly as she tightly embraced him, only to let go a second later. He was beginning to feel slightly annoyed at her for what she was putting him through. "Should we head back to the Manor? I really _would_ like to-"

"I don't see any reason to rush back," Chris waved him off. "I'm sure that whatever it is can wait. For now, let's just enjoy the rain."

No sooner had she said these words that the sky opened up and released its contents onto the Earth. Grinning broadly, Chris opened her arms to further catch the downpour. Draco began to shiver in the slight breeze that had picked up, but worked to hide it. He did not want to ruin her moment.

"Come on, then," she took his hand again and led him back towards the Manor. "We'll slowly make our way back, if you want to."

Draco could not help but feel disappointed when she let go of him again. He yearned for nothing more than to reach out and take her hand, to touch her, to hold her, and to kiss her in the rain. He wanted to tell her everything; about the arranged marriage, and about how he felt towards her; how much he loved her-

His thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he could nearly hear his heart beating painfully against his rib cage. _Love_?

Surely not. Yes, he would admit, he had been in love with her in the past, but _now_? He couldn't. He just couldn't be.

'_You tell her nothing_,' he scolded himself as he followed her down the trail. '_You will be rejected. She has a boyfriend. She is not interested in you. She does not want you._'

Chris emitted a gasp, bringing him from his thoughts. She pointed ahead, where a fork of lightning had struck one of the larger trees in the forest. It swaggered where it stood, creaking threateningly. Finally, it began to fall towards the trail that they walked on.

Draco instinctively clutched Chris by the upper arm and pulled her back a few steps. "Careful, Chris. We're a little too close."

She nodded, and allowed for him to lead her away from the plummeting tree. It came down onto the path with a thunderous crash, and Chris flinched at the loud noise, draping her arm around Draco's waist.

"I think I'm ready to go home, now," she told him as she slowly let go of him and moved towards the tree.

"We'll just climb over it," Draco explained as they reached it. "Follow me."

He found a break in the tree's branches, and climbed on top of it. After he had gained his balance, he leapt down onto the other side.

"Come on, Chris," he gestured for her to follow. "Just go through where I went."

She nodded, but did not look confident in herself. She tried to climb up where Draco had, but since she was a good four inches shorter than him, and since he had already had a difficult enough time, it was not an easy task.

"I think I need help," Chris admitted after her second try with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry-"

"That's all right," Draco waved her apology off. " Here, take my hand."

She did so without hesitation. With his help, she managed to get on top of the tree, but did not have such an easy time maintaining her balance. "Ok, now I'm going to start freaking out. Get me down from here."

Draco nodded, and moved towards her. When he got closer, Chris began to wobble where she stood, and her eyes grew wide as her balance finally failed her. Before Draco knew what had happened, she had fallen off the tree, landed on him, and brought them both to the ground.

A string of thoughts immediately ran through Draco's mind as he considered her position on top of him. '_She does not want you. She has a boyfriend. She will reject you-_'

Chris' eyes met his, and she emitted a small giggle. "Whoops. Sorry."

He managed a weak smile. "That's all right. Let's carry on, shall we?"

She hesitated to move, and her smile fell with his suggestion.

'_She will reject you. She does not want you-_'

"Aw, but you're so comfortable," she complained, placed her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. "I could lay here all night."

Draco's thoughts were gaining speed. '_She has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend-_'

"Chris, I need you to get off me."

Her eyes opened again, and she gazed at him, attempting to discern whether or not he was serious. Her cheeks grew a subtle shade of pink when she realized that he was. "Right. You're probably getting wet. Sorry."

She climbed off him, and then hurriedly stood up. In the few second's time that she took to wipe the mud from her backside, Draco sighed in relief. He had been very close to saying something that she would have not been pleased to hear.

"Draco?"

He looked up at her. She held her hand out, waiting to help him off the ground. He smiled weakly, and then accepted her help, pulling himself into a standing position.

As he stood, he tried not to meet her gaze. To make sure that it would not happen, he commenced walking back towards his family's Manor.

"Wait for me!" Chris called out when she realized that he was not stopping, or joking, for that manner.

She wrapped her arm around his as she caught up with him. "I'm sorry, Draco, but I can't seem to help myself when it comes to you, today-"

Draco had finally had enough. With a rough exhalation, he hurriedly removed his arm from Chris' touch. "Cut it out."

They came to a stop on the trail. Draco turned to confront her, and almost lost heart when he saw the confusion that she felt mirrored on her face.

"What's the matter?" she carefully asked.

"The 'matter'?" he repeated, incredulous that she had not yet picked up on it. "_You're_ what's the matter! You need to stop this, what you're doing. It's not fair."

He tried to carry on towards his Manor, but Chris called him back. "What am I doing wrong?"

"You're flirting with me," he pointed an accusatory finger at her. "And you have no feelings behind it. That's not fair. Not to me, and not to - to _him_."

Chris knew that he had mentioned Harry as an afterthought, but did not bother to point that out. "What's the matter with it? It's not like it's causing any harm. I'm just playing, and you know that-"

"That's why it's bugging me so much!" he raised his voice in order to counter hers. "I know that you don't feel anything like that towards me, and it really bothers me that you would do such a thing when-"

He fell abruptly silent, clenching his lips together. He opened his mouth to continue, but then dismissed it, shook his head, and carried on down the trail.

"Draco!" Chris shouted his name, and ran to catch up with him once again. "Stop! I'm sorry, all right? I didn't know that it bothered you so much. _Draco_! Come on, please! Stop! What if there _was_ something behind it-?"

"Liar," he narrowed his eyes at her, and dodged her grip as she tried to physically stop him. "There's nothing behind your actions. I'm not a fool. I know that you're just being a tease."

Chris gaped at him in offense. Draco watched as her initial expression of outrage turned to one of injury. "You think that I'm a tease?"

He crossed his arms. "Well, I'm finding it very hard to think otherwise."

They shared a very uncomfortable silence as they stared at one another. Draco waited for her to refute his statement, and Chris waited for him to retract it.

Finally, Chris realized that Draco would not be doing as she expected. She approached him carefully, and sighed in defeat. "I'm not a tease, Draco."

Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and then laughed raucously. "No? _Not_ a tease? Well, then, I suppose that it would be all right for me to do something like _this_ then, wouldn't it?"

Before Chris could counteract or refute him, he had uncrossed his arms and gripped her around the waist, pulling her body against his own. Surprised at his sudden actions, Chris tried to push away from him, but he only held her tighter.

"Go on, then, prove it to me," he whispered to her in a harsh voice. "Show me that you're not a tease. Judging by the way that you've been acting, you think _very_ highly of me. Prove to me that you're not a tease, Chris. _Prove it_."

"Draco, you're hurting me-"

"Prove to me that you're not a tease."

"I don't know how-"

"Of course you do."

She tried to avert her gaze when she realized what he wanted, but found that it was not possible. Just as the Dark Lord had done when he exercised Legilimency on her, Draco held her eyes with surprising power.

Draco felt the rigidity of her body heighten as she considered him. For a moment, he thought that he would be rejected, but with a heavy sigh from Chris, her bodily tensions disappeared. She put an end to her attempts at pushing him away, and allowed herself to relax.

With her initial hostility now extinguished, Draco came to realize that there was no space left between them as they stood there together in the rain. She ceased in her attempts to move away from him, and her forehead eventually found his. It seemed to him that, perhaps, Chris _was_ telling the truth.

His hard stare softened as their exhalations began to tease each others' lips. As soon as he felt Chris' hot breath on his cheek, all his previous mental repetitions were forgotten. He now only had one desire left in his mind: to kiss her.

His nerves returned, but this time they were accompanied by anticipation. He could already feel her lips on his, and could imagine hearing her confess all her repressed feelings towards him. His grip on her softened, but she did not take it as a chance to move away from him. Instead, she seemed to know what was to come, and, in Draco's mind, waited for it. She glanced down fleetingly at his lips, causing Draco's insides to leap. She had read his mind, and he had just been granted permission.

Chris didn't know what the hell she was thinking. This was wrong; nothing about it was right. What about Harry? Sure, Draco had only mentioned him as a side thought, but he was right. This wasn't fair. She couldn't do this.

Before Draco's lips could even graze hers, she turned her head away. Draco seemed confused as to what was wrong, but he soon realized.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered. "You're right. It's not fair."

Before he could respond, or even react, for that manner, she had pushed him away from her and began to make her way back towards the Manor. She did not look back over her shoulder, and left Draco to stand there in shock, not able to believe that he had been rejected when he was that close to his goal.

Chris shook her head as she ran through the falling rain towards the Manor. How could she have almost gone through with that? Just as had happened a year prior to that, his touch had rendered her completely weak and vulnerable. She could not believe that she had almost betrayed Harry: she had been _so_ close. But, was it really a betrayal?

Admittedly, she had never fallen in love with Harry. She had never felt that strongly towards him, no matter how many times she told him otherwise. She had always known, deep down, where her heart truly belonged. That was why she had allowed Draco to hold her, to almost kiss her. And, was that why it had taken so much effort to push him away?


	13. Osiris, Also God Of Birthday Presents

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XIII: OSIRIS, ALSO GOD OF BIRTHDAY PRESENTS

-- -- -- -- --

The Dark Lord strolled through the old Manor's upper floor, and ran his long, spider-like fingers along the wall as he sank deep into laden thought. Here ... it had all happened _right_ here. He stopped as he finally reached his goal: the doorway that had remained closed for nearly fifteen years, and had preoccupied his mind ever since. He eyed the door with nothing short of abhorrence as he thought about what had conspired behind it. It was then that he had once lost all that mattered to him.

He exhaled heavily, and as he did so a deep sneer manifested itself on his already disapproving expression. His loathing towards this place did nothing to curb his interest. After much deliberation, he decided that he had not come here only to be defeated by the prospect of the past. With a steely resolution, his hand moved towards the doorknob. However, as his fingers grazed the tarnished brass, he recoiled away as though he had suffered bodily harm.

He sighed roughly, and scorned himself for his weakness. It was only a room, after all. What kind of further damage could it possibly do to him?

He urged himself forward, but he could not do it. He could not enter this room. He took a step away from it, and crossed his arms as he considered the door with an intent eye. The act of entering was, in itself, not a hard feat. His lingering hatred for the place before him was enough to ensure that he would never enter it again.

"My Lord?"

The Dark Lord snapped out of his cogitation, and hastily turned towards the staircase near the other end of the corridor, where the voice had come from. "What do you want, Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus' face remained in shadow as he spoke. "Lucius wishes to speak to you at his home."

"Did he give you a reason why?"

"He and Eric have discovered how the Ministry was tipped off about the Murray Manor," Rodolphus moved down the hallway towards him. "He said that, normally, he would not bother you with such small business, but it would seem that the information came from within the Death Eaters."

The Dark Lord swelled and, even though it was dark, Rodolphus could still sense his anger. "I will be on my way, then. I will return when I am done. I should not be long."

Rodolphus bowed shortly to him. "Bella and I will anticipate your return, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded, and then apparated Southwest, over the North Sea, and into the southern British province of Wiltshire, where the Malfoy Manor stood. He wasted no time in reaching his goal, and apparated directly into the Malfoys' drawing room, where he was certain that Lucius would be waiting to meet him with the perpetrators.

"Ah," he scowled as he looked from one robed figure to the next. He already knew who the offenders were, just by glancing at the physical composition of those who stood on either side of Lucius. "State your names."

The bumbling figure on Lucius' left began to speak in a quiet, frightened voice. "Ernie Crabbe and Albert Goyle, my Lord. We have done _nothing_ to-"

"Did I ask for your account, Goyle?" the Dark Lord hissed, his eyes shining malevolently in the darkness.

Goyle emitted a small squeak as he dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, my Lord."

The Dark Lord ignored him, and instead turned his attention to Lucius. "It is because of these two that the Ministry became aware of certain goings-on at the Murray Manor?"

Lucius bowed respectfully, and spoke when he was once again standing straight. "Yes, my Lord. After extensive searching, Eric and I have traced the offense back to these two."

It was Crabbe's turn to refute Lucius' accusations. "That's not true-!"

"Silence!" the Dark Lord cut him off, and turned back to Lucius. "What is your reasoning behind your accusation? How did you discover that it was these two who committed such a heinous crime against a fellow Death Eater? Show me your logic."

Lucius stepped forward, and cleared his throat. "My Lord, as soon as the safety of Eric's family was asserted, we began on our search. After many failed attempts, we finally managed to steal away into the Ministry's Auror department after casting the Imperius Curse over Robert Feynman-"

The Dark Lord was evidently impressed with their feat. "The Head Auror?"

Lucius nodded. "The very same. He was the only Auror to remain behind late that night. We made our way into the Archive, where all record of past crimes and offenses are kept, and managed to make off with the entire account of this particular affair."

"Do you have it with you?"

Lucius reached into his cloak and pulled out an already faded folder. "Yes, I do."

"Hand it here," the Dark Lord commanded of him, taking a few steps forward. Lucius did as he was told, and the Dark Lord began to read through the documents held within.

Lucius noticed that Crabbe and Goyle appeared to advance in years, a telling sign that they knew they had been discovered. With heavy sighs that only Lucius seemed to hear, they cast their eyes down to the floor and awaited the Dark Lord's impending wrath.

When he was finished reading, the Dark Lord slammed the folder closed, and threw it onto the floor at his feet. He hurriedly advanced on the now cowering figures before him, and made a movement as if to take a hold of his wand. He managed to repress this urge, though not without considerable might.

"You came into contact with the Ministry of Magic on the eighteenth of June," the Dark Lord hissed at them, forcing Crabbe to join Goyle in his position on the floor. "In Hogsmeade; at the Hog's Head. Explain."

"It wasn't intentional!" Crabbe abruptly spoke, holding his eyes tightly shut as he spoke. "We had taken in a pint or two, and then the Aurors showed up. In our state, we could not clearly judge whether or not they were an ally or an enemy-"

"They didn't search the Murray Manor until the twenty-third," the Dark Lord pointed out, his high voice soaring overtop of Crabbe's as he finally extracted his wand. "Why didn't you come to me after you had realized your error? You thought, perhaps, that keeping this to yourself would save you from harm? Well, guess again. _Crucio_!"

Crabbe's tormented screams filled the room as the Dark Lord held him under the Cruciatus Curse. Beside him, Goyle began to involuntarily shake as he entertained the notion that he would more than likely be next in line for punishment.

"We will never do it again!" Goyle yelled overtop of Crabbe. "My Lord, _please_ stop! He is in pain-"

"Of course he's in pain," the Dark Lord nonchalantly replied. "He deserves it, and so do _you_, Goyle. However, punishing the two of you is a complete waste of my precious time. So, instead, I do believe that I will skip ahead on my agenda. I am releasing the two of you from my service. I trust you know what this means, Goyle?"

He lifted the curse off Crabbe, who continued to lie there on the floor in a motionless bundle. Goyle no longer paid attention to his longtime comrade, but instead focused completely on the Dark Lord and his statement. "You can't, my Lord! It was a one time mistake-"

"This is the way I see it," the Dark Lord cut him off. "From these documents, I cannot tell if you tipped the Ministry off by accident, or on purpose. All I know is that your actions caused mighty trouble with the Murrays and even the Malfoys, who have been kind enough to help them in their hour of need. I am tempted to believe that this will never happen again, but there is something stopping me, Goyle: your omnipresent stupidity. You can pledge that promise to me but, as you told me, your actions were not intended. I do not know if you will accidentily do something like this again in the future, and there is no room for people like that in the Death Eaters. Therefore, I am releasing you from my service."

There was a long pause between the Dark Lord and Goyle as they stared at one another. They only broke eye contact when Crabbe began to stir.

"Ah, your friend is awake," the Dark Lord stated as a small smirk came over him. "Now that he's conscious, I will allow for the two of you to decide who will be going first."

Goyle looked down at Crabbe, and then glanced back up at the Dark Lord. "That won't be necessary."

The Dark Lord's smirk widened in amusement. "Oh? I would imagine not, either. It seems that you have just volunteered yourself, Goyle-"

"No, I haven't," Goyle spoke over him, and clutched Crabbe by the shoulder. "Neither of us will die at _your_ hands."

With this proclamation, he and Crabbe disappeared with a small _crack_.

Lucius bounded forward to where they had been kneeling, as though he could somehow bring them back, but he only found himself at the receiving end of the Dark Lord's newfound anger. "You knew there was a chance that they might try to do something as stupid as this. Why wouldn't you cast an Anti-Apparating Spell over your drawing room?"

Lucius dropped to his knees in apology. "Forgive me, my Lord. If you so wish, I will set out for them-"

"No," the Dark Lord cut him off, and a smirk began to develop once more as his anger subsided. "I will take care of this. I daresay that it might almost be fun. One thing though, Lucius: Crabbe and Goyle should be considered dead, and their families traitors. I know that Draco has grown close to their sons over the years, and I would advise that you tell him of this new development. You would not want him to associate with such filth."

"Of course not, my Lord," Lucius stood and bowed. "I will tell him right away."

"Good," the Dark Lord brushed past him, and pulled his wand from his pocket. "I will be off then. My, I'm quite looking forward to this, I will admit. I must ask that you send a message to Bella and Rodolphus in Norway, Lucius. Tell them that I may be late returning tonight. I would not want them to panic, and send out a false alarm to my Death Eaters."

"It will be done," Lucius bowed again, and then lowered his hood once the Dark Lord had disapparated, to commence pursuit of the fugitives.

Lucius couldn't believe their foolishness. He tried to hold back a scoff and a smirk, but found it impossible when he considered the lengths that the Dark Lord would now go to in order to ensure their suffering. Further torture was certain. If they had stayed, the Dark Lord may have allowed them a relatively painless death.

He left the drawing room, and made for his son's bedroom. If he wished for Draco to join the Death Eaters someday, then all his ties to traitors must be severed.

However, as he passed the main sitting room, his name was spoken and he was forced to postpone his objective. Entering it, he found that Eric and Cynthia sat on the sofa furthest away from the entrance. Lucius greeted them each with a brief nod.

"They are dead, then?" Cynthia stiffly asked, crossing her arms and legs.

Lucius shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "No. They ran off. The Dark Lord has gone after them."

Eric gaped at Lucius in anger, and then stood. "They ran off? They sure don't know when to give up, do they?"

Lucius laughed slightly. "Well, they won't get far. I wouldn't doubt that the Dark Lord has already found them. Regardless, though ... Eric, would you send a message up to Hammerfest, telling Bella and Rodolphus what the Dark Lord is doing? You know Bella ... if the Dark Lord was designated more than two seconds late, she'd be in a panic, and would more than likely raise one."

"Of course," Eric nodded in compliance.

"I must go speak with Draco," Lucius excused himself from the sitting room. "It seems that he is going to have to make some new friends this year."

"Right," Cynthia narrowed her eyes as she thought of the company that Draco had kept during his time at Hogwarts. "You wouldn't want those traitors' sons around ... _influencing_ him."

"No," Lucius agreed with a shake of his head. "Now, excuse me."

He left the sitting room with a short bow, and ascended the stairs as quickly as he could. As he approached his son's bedroom, he heard a peculiar sound; one that he did not initially recognize. As he came closer though, he realized that it was Draco, but that he had adapted a higher pitch to his voice.

'_He'd better not be singing again_,' Lucius hastily thought as he hit his walking stick against the door.

The voice ceased, and Lucius heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. "Who is it?"

"Me," Lucius announced. "Open this door right now."

There was a small pause, and then the door swung open. "Sorry, I thought that you might be Chris-"

"What are you hiding?" Lucius narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Was that _singing_ that I heard?"

Draco looked at him as though he was crazy. "_No_! I was talking to - well, come in, I'll show you."

His interest piqued, he followed Draco into his bedroom. While Draco made a beeline for his closet, Lucius made himself more comfortable in the alcove. He watched as Draco picked something up from the floor, and then joined him in the sitting area.

"It's Chris' birthday tomorrow-"

"I know."

Draco ignored his father's bluntness, and opened his hands so that Lucius could see the small, white ball of fur within. "You see, her _old_ cat died this winter when it wandered into the Forbidden Forest. Since it's her birthday tomorrow, I thought that I'd get her a new one."

Lucius stared at the kitten, and even though it did not show, he was sincere when he spoke. "That's kind of you."

The kitten gawked up at him, its bright, blue eyes nearly bulging from its tiny skull.

"Yeah, I thought that she'd appreciate it," Draco nodded in agreement. "I found him in Diagon Alley earlier today. I figured that if _I_ thought he was an all right little fellow, then Chris would just _love_ him."

"Right," Lucius nodded, watching the cat crawl around on the couch as Draco set him down. "So, there is something that I need to talk to you about."

"I figured as much, seeing as how you're here."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at Draco, and the quick hint of a sneer passed over him. "Eric and I found out who had tipped the Ministry off in regards to the Murray Manor."

"Did you really?" Draco sat up straighter in his seat, but then slouched again as a thought came to him. "Does that mean that they're going home?"

"Yes," Lucius nodded. "They will be leaving early tomorrow morning, but we will be traveling to their home tomorrow night for a birthday dinner. She _is_ coming of age, after all. That's beside the point, though; I digress. It turned out to be Crabbe and Goyle that snitched to the Ministry."

Draco stared at his father. "Vincent and Gregory?"

"No, their fathers," Lucius corrected him. "They fled from the Dark Lord, but they will more than likely be dead by morning. I came up here to tell you that you are hereby forbidden to associate with Vincent and Gregory. I am sure that their mothers will tell them the same thing about you. Do you understand me? No more contact with them from now on, and especially when you return to school."

Draco nodded, petting the kitten in thought. It would not be difficult. They may prove to be difficult to avoid in class and in the Slytherin common room, but he would not disappoint his father.

"That's all that I needed to say to you," Lucius stood from his seat, and headed for the door. "You need to be ready by six o'clock tomorrow night. That is when we will be leaving for the dinner party."

"All right," Draco bid his father good-bye, but then stood to follow. He didn't know when Chris was leaving to return home, and he didn't want to wait until tomorrow night to give her the kitten. It seemed most fitting to give it to her right now.

Draco had hardly made any headway down the corridor when he slowed to a stop. He needed to think, because he needed to tell her soon, and it just seemed that this might be his last chance before they were separated for the remainder of summer. But, was she ready to hear about an arranged marriage yet?

A certain thought struck Draco. If he held off telling Chris about the wedding, and somehow managed to keep her away from their parents until the end of the summer, then he would have until at least Christmas to tell her about the entire ordeal. She would not see her parents until then, at least, and he would be able to tell her in his own time.

He would not have to speed things up between them, and he would not have to worry about it so much. In his excitement, the deal was automatically cinched: he would not tell her until absolutely necessary. After all, didn't his mother tell him that the wedding was not to happen for at least two years? He had _plenty_ of time to tell her everything.

He carried on down the hallway, but he had not taken three steps before the previous week's events stung his mind. He had not spoken to her since, but he _had_ seen her at meals. She was not angry with him this time but, somehow, things turned out worse than they would have if she had once again resorted to giving him the cold shoulder. The silence between them had grown so awkward that he'd ended up leaving before finishing his meals on a few occasions.

After he had tried to kiss her, he worried that Chris would resort to spending time with their mothers in order to pass the time, but this turned out to not be the case. Narcissa had made appointments with all of Draco's professors, and had been busy trying to get to the bottom of his bad report, refusing to believe that her son had been such a delinquent in his sixth year of study. Cynthia had been traveling to and from her family's manor in the neighboring province of Berkshire, most likely attempting to undo all the scouting charms that the Ministry had placed over her home and re-rendering it fit for habitation. Narcissa had barely come home either, for after meeting with Draco's professors, she would apparate into Berkshire and aid Cynthia in her plight.

Draco leaned up against the wall, and absentmindedly pet the kitten as he thought. He could do this. He could walk in there, pretend that nothing had happened, and hand her the kitten while giving her his best wishes on her seventeenth birthday. He could do this.

But what if she saw the kitten as his attempt at a peace offering?

It doesn't matter, he argued with himself. Just go in and out. It'll be over in ten seconds, if you want it to be. Just give her the kitten, wish her a happy birthday, and get out of there.

Deciding that he would indeed make it as quick as possible, he slowly began to move up the corridor towards her bedroom. His heart began to beat against his chest as he tapped on the door, and he almost lost heart in his plight as Chris invited him in.

He opened the door and peeked inside. Chris had her school trunk open on her bed, and was attempting to push its contents down so that she could close the top. Draco entered the room behind her, shut the door carefully behind him, and then commenced to wait until she was ready to speak to him.

She eventually managed to get her trunk to close, and she turned to face him. Having suspected that her visitor was either her mother or father, her smile faded just enough for Draco to notice as she realized that they would not be joining her tonight. "Oh. Er - hi. How's it going?"

He smiled weakly, and adjusted his hands so that his birthday present for her would not be visible. "Not too bad. So, you're going home tomorrow, then?"

Chris glanced back at her trunk. "Yeah. My mother cleansed the house of all the spells that would report our actions to the Ministry. We're leaving right in the morning."

Draco nodded, not entirely sure what to say. He could feel the atmosphere growing awkward between them once again, and knew only one way to avoid it. "Well, listen, since you'll probably be gone before I wake up, I thought that I would give you your birthday present now."

Chris looked down at his hands before smiling warmly at him. "You remembered that it was my birthday tomorrow?"

He nodded again, and then took a step towards her. "Here. I hope you like it."

He held his hands out to her, and then opened them. When she saw the kitten staring up at her, her face lit up and she emitted a small gasp. "Oh, _Draco_ ... it's adorable!"

She snatched it up, and held it against her chest, where it immediately tried to fall asleep, cuddling up into her neck. She moved towards her bed, and lay the kitten down against her pillow. It appeared annoyed for a split second at the fact that it had been deterred in its attempt to make itself more comfortable, but was soon sound asleep.

Their past tensions seemed to be forgotten as Chris moved back towards Draco and tightly embraced him. "Thank you so much! It's so much nicer than my other cat ... cuter, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She let go of him, beaming. Draco followed her over to the bed as she returned to her new kitten's side and discretely lifted its leg.

Draco chuckled as he watched her. "What, exactly, are you _doing_?"

"Seeing if it's a boy or a girl," she replied with a playful grin.

"I could have told you that it was a boy."

"Then you should have said something," Chris remarked, laughing slightly. "I thought that I knew what I'd name it, but it's a girl's name. That won't do at all."

"What were you going to name it?" Draco asked as he sat down by her trunk. "Not something like your other cat, I hope."

Chris laughed. "No, nothing like Grimface. You have to understand, I was only six when I got her-"

"Grimface was a _girl_?" Draco stared at her with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, but by the time I figured that out, it was too late to call her anything else," Chris shrugged, smiling again. "I wanted to name her Isis, you know, after the Egyptian god. I figured that if _this_ kitten were a girl, I'd name her that. But, since this little fellow is a boy, that changes things. I might just name it after Isis' husband."

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion. "Who was her husband?"

"Osiris," Chris replied. "He was the god of the dead. In the myth, he was the oldest of five children, and his younger brother Seth tried to usurp his throne by killing him. When Osiris died, death was introduced to the world."

"Sounds morbid," Draco commented in a monotonous tone.

"Yeah, and he married his sister, too," Chris laughed as she slowly began to pet Osiris.

"Isis was his wife _and_ sister?" Draco sneered in disgust.

"_'He loved her even in the womb'_," Chris repeated the one phrase that had stuck with her ever since she had read a short book on the two Egyptian gods and their family. "It's kind of bizarre, yes, but it's not like they ever really existed, right?"

"I guess so," Draco nodded slowly as he stood up. "Well, I guess I'll leave you. You probably need to get some sleep."

Chris shrugged and seemed genuinely disappointed that he was already leaving her side. "I don't know what time we're leaving, specifically. You could stay if you like. It's not like it'll be a long journey. I could just go to bed when I got home."

Draco considered it. He wanted to stay there, but knew that he could not. The memories of the ways that she had toyed with him still burned vividly in his mind. That, and the fact that he did not know if he could restrain himself if she even _looked_ at him in a slightly suggestive manner, were enough to keep him away.

"No thanks," he declined her offer. "I'm tired."

Her face fell slightly, and she sighed. "All right, then. I'll probably see you tomorrow anyway. You're coming to my birthday party, I'm pretty sure. Coming of age is a big deal to my parents. My father told me that all the Death Eaters were going to be there."

"I see," Draco continued to move away towards the door. "Well, I'll see you there, then."

She nodded, but it seemed to Draco that she had something else to say. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to speak, but she didn't. Deciding that it had been a figment of his imagination, he made to leave.

"Draco?" she heard her voice finally come when he had almost shut her bedroom door.

He reentered her room. "What?"

She stared at him with her jaw slack, as though she did not entirely know what to say. After a moment of thought, she found her voice. "You know that I would have if I could, right?"

Draco furrowed his brows, confused as to what she was referring to. However, it was not long before he realized that she was alluding to what had transpired between them approximately a week earlier.

He didn't know how to reply. He had suspected as much, but he did not think it appropriate to say so. He needed to say or do _something_, though. If he left without acknowledging what she had brought up, then it would seem as if he no longer cared about their last encounter.

He gave her a brief nod and a small smile before disappearing from her doorway. He did not need to say anything, he had concluded. By his actions, he had conveyed to her his gratefulness for her words.

As Draco climbed into his bed, her words echoed once again through his mind. Of course she couldn't have gone through with his request. She feared for their wellbeing at Hogwarts, for they surely could never be a couple there while the Rule still existed. But, still, what would it matter if they were the outcasts? They were to be outcasts anyway, when they were brought into the Death Eaters in less than a year's time.

The beatings ... those were what bothered her. Their social wellbeing was not her top concern, but their _physical_ wellbeing. She had mentioned once that she did not enjoy the prospect of being put into her place by the students who took it upon themselves to enforce the Rule.

But, that was not all that stopped her, and Draco knew it. He wondered if she still had a place for Potter in her heart. She had not mentioned him much at all that summer, and he wondered if that held any significance. Of course, she could have only been trying to hide the fact that she was seeing him from her parents.

Would that have been something that had factored her in stopping what was almost to happen between them? Yes, it very well could have been. Even if she did not feel for Potter, she was still involved with him. Chris was an extremely loyal person. Even if she still did not feel for Potter, she would not have wanted to cheat on him.

Draco smiled into his pillow as he stored his thoughts away. Even if she felt for him, but exercised every ounce of energy she possessed in trying to stay away from him, he couldn't help but feel nothing short of respect towards her.


	14. The Summer Of Love?

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XIV: THE SUMMER OF LOVE?

-- -- -- -- --

Cynthia and Narcissa strolled through the sitting room, and studied the decorations with critical eyes. The house elves had been preoccupied with the party preparations for the past two days, and not without good reason. The Murrays and the Malfoys desired for it to go off without a hitch, since this was more than just a birthday party. It was also to be a celebration of the two renowned families coming together as one in a few years time.

"Is the food set yet?" Cynthia asked the house elf that she had put in charge of the kitchen. "It's past five o'clock. Guests will begin to arrive soon."

"Yes, miss," the house elf bowed low to the ground. "Everything is ready in the kitchen and dining room."

"Good," Cynthia nodded in satisfaction. "Narcissa, when are Lucius and Draco due to arrive?"

"I told them to be here a little early," Narcissa replied as they moved down the hallway towards the dining room. "They were meeting the Dark Lord, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix at five-thirty, and arriving with them. I should go and make sure that those two are getting ready, I suppose. Lucius has a tendency to lose track of the time, and Draco is no better."

"Yes, and I should be making sure that Christina is getting dressed," Cynthia agreed before she and Narcissa went their separate ways.

Cynthia glanced into the dining room, and then headed back up the corridor when she had decided that she was satisfied with the way the appetizers were laid out, and that there was enough for their guests. She turned left down another hallway at the foyer, and then descended the staircase at the end.

She knocked on the first door that she came to, and was greeted by Christina's voice. "Who is it?"

"Your mother."

"Come on in, then," she replied. "The door is unlocked."

Cynthia complied, but found that Christina was not in the main room. She could hear her rustling about in the closet, and approached its doorway.

"What do you think about this one?" Chris held a white sundress up for her to see.

Cynthia leaned against the frame, and hummed in thought. "Do you really think that you should wear white?"

Staring at her mother, Chris sighed in annoyance. "Why can't I wear white?"

Cynthia shrugged. "Well, I think that you look better in either red or green, to be honest with you."

Chris crossed her arms in defiance, but then decided that it was not worth arguing about. "Help me find something else, then."

Cynthia entered the closet, and began to flip through the various dresses that her daughter boasted. She finally pulled out a dark green one and held it up between she and Chris. "I think that this one would look best on you. I remember when we bought it. I figured that it would be nice for this sort of occasion."

Chris studied the dress, and was surprised that her mother had actually suggested something that was to her taste. "I'll try it on, then. Out you go."

She shooed her mother from the closet, and then shut the door. Cynthia sat down on the edge of her daughter's bed, and commenced to wait.

A moment later, Chris emerged from her closet. "It feels a little snug, but either than that, I guess it's all right."

Cynthia clicked her tongue as she approached Chris and took a hold of the small amount of belly fat that had developed over the summer months. "I _knew_ that I should have checked in on you a little sooner, to make sure that you weren't gaining any weight. I guess we still have plenty of time before you are expected to get into _my_ dress, but we'll have to watch you-"

"I will have you know that I _always_ gain a little weight over the summer," Chris cut her off, offended. "I usually lose it by Christmas time. Don't worry about it."

"All right," Cynthia replied, and then gazed at the clock in Chris' room. "Well, the Malfoys, Lestranges, and the Dark Lord are due to arrive soon, along with your father. Come on, let's go."

"I need my shoes first," Chris grumbled as she dodged her mother's grip. "Hold your horses, woman."

Cynthia narrowed her eyes at her daughter, but didn't speak a word in retaliation. Instead, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited. Chris hurriedly found a pair of shoes that would go with the dress, and that she was sure would keep her comfortable for the night's duration.

"Okay, I'm ready," Chris told her as she joined her at the doorway. "Let's get this over with."

"It's not going to be _that_ bad," Cynthia told her as they descended the staircase. "You know everyone that's coming."

"Is Draco?"

She noted that her mother seemed to swell next to her. When she spoke, any hint of annoyance that she'd felt prior to that had been replaced with cheerfulness. "Yes, of _course_ he's coming. Why wouldn't he show up at his own party?"

"_His_ party?" Chris repeated. "I thought that this was _my_ party."

They heard voices coming from the sitting room as they reached the foyer. Chris recognized Lucius' voice first, and felt a small wave of discomfiture. She hadn't given Mr. Malfoy a very good first impression, and she had a feeling that he didn't think very much of her.

"It's for both of you," Cynthia quickly answered Chris' question, and then dashed forward to greet the guests.

Chris followed her, and found that the mood of the room's occupants was not one that would be normal in the event of a party. All spare the Dark Lord held a champagne glass, but this was where the festivities ended. They stood in a circle and spoke in hushed tones, sharing the occasional furtive glance. They stopped speaking when they saw Cynthia and Chris, and beckoned them over.

"What's going on?" Cynthia asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"They got away," Narcissa informed her in an undertone. "The Dark Lord was unable to find them-"

"_Yet_," the Dark Lord added, narrowing his eyes at Narcissa for her frankness. "I will find them soon enough. They cannot hide from me forever."

Narcissa bowed her head in apology. "Of course not, my Lord."

Chris started as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jolted away from them, but then relaxed when she saw that it was only Draco. "You startled me."

"Sorry," he hurriedly apologized with a smile. "What say we get out of here? Where's your dining room? Your father mentioned that there would be appetizers, and I've been starving myself all day for this thing."

Chris laughed, shook her head, and gestured him towards the hallway. "Follow me. Haven't you ever been here before?"

He shook his head. "No, this is the first time."

"Are you serious?"

"Well, had you ever been to _my_ home before this summer?"

"No, but-"

"Case in point," Draco smirked, but it was short-lived. When they had entered the dining room and Draco had seen the table, covered with food to the point of collapse, his eyes lit up and he looked on in hunger.

"Dig in," Chris invited him, picking up a piece of shrimp. "It tastes better when you actually _eat_ it."

Draco raised his eyebrows at her, but refrained from firing back a witty comment. Instead, he grabbed a plate and began to fill it.

Chris watched in amusement as he moved up and down the table, and scoffed when he found that he had stacked his plate to its full capacity and could add no more to it. "You weren't kidding when you said that you'd starved yourself today. Do you need a second plate?"

"No, I think I'm good for now," Draco refuted her offer with a small smile. She shook her head with another small laugh as she brushed past him, grabbed a plate, and took a considerably smaller amount of food than Draco had.

"You must have had lunch," Draco addressed her through a full mouth.

"I did," she confirmed. "I nabbed some salmon for Osiris too, though."

Draco nodded and swallowed, having something to say. Chris was momentarily distracted as she heard people arriving in the foyer, but her attention wavered back to Draco when he spoke. "How's he doing?"

"Good," she replied with a smile. "He's pretty lazy for a kitten, but I don't mind. He's my little buddy, already."

"Well, I'm glad you like-" Draco began, but was cut off as someone joined them in the dining room; someone that he did not wish to see in the least. The last time that he had seen this person crossed his mind, and he desired for nothing more than to drag Chris from that room before he had a chance to approach them. Unfortunately, by the time that thought had occurred to him, it was too late.

"Christina, my sincerest birthday wishes," the oily voice of Fenrir Greyback came as he moved towards the two of them. Draco did not like the way that he was eyeing them in the least - he imagined that it was the same way he himself had been looking at the table of food.

This did not seem to bother Chris, though, for she smiled and shortly bowed her head to him. Though it was brief, Draco saw Fenrir's eyes graze the exposed flesh of her shoulders. Remembering what actions the werewolf was notorious for, he inched a little closer towards Chris. He couldn't believe that she could remain calm, for she surely knew what Fenrir Greyback was capable of.

"Thank you, Fenrir," she addressed him by his first name, which took Draco by surprise. "You are too kind."

Fenrir grinned, allowing for Draco to see his fangs. He glanced over at Chris, to see if she too had noticed them, but he was unable to tell.

To his relief, Chris backed away from the untransformed werewolf, and gestured towards the table. "Why don't you help yourself to some food, Fenrir? The house elves have been working their little hands to the bone. You wouldn't want it all to go to waste now, would you?"

Fenrir rubbed his hands eagerly together, and his tongue darted across his lips. "I might do just so. Thank you. If your father wasn't keeping such an eye on me tonight, I might've had to bite _you_, since you're so sweet."

Chris laughed, but Draco had had enough. Once Fenrir had moved his attention towards the various appetizers before him, Draco pulled Chris out of the dining room and back down the newly crowded hallway. He held her by the upper arm, and glanced back over his shoulder every few steps to make sure that he wasn't following them.

Chris shrugged his grip off her. "What's up with _you_?"

"With _me_?" Draco replied in a hushed tone. "What's the matter with _you_?"

She furrowed her brows, and studied him as they both came to a halt. "What do you mean?"

Draco gestured back towards the dining room, where he could see Fenrir standing with his back to them. He talked to another Death Eater, while wolfing down a pile of assorted meats. "What was that with Fenrir Greyback back there? I didn't like the way that he was looking at and talking to you, and I don't like the fact that you're so friendly with him."

She tilted her head to the side, and contorted her face into a slight sneer. "He's all right. He's never been anything but kind to me."

Draco blinked. "He told you that he would bite you if he had the chance."

"No, he didn't," Chris immediately refuted his statement with a wave of her hand. "He was only joking. He's always done that. Every time I see him, he says the same thing."

"Does your father always watch him when he's around?"

Chris pressed her lips together as she paused. "Yes, I will admit that he does."

"He's got good reason to," Draco leaned in a little bit closer, and lowered his voice. "I don't trust Fenrir Greyback for a minute, and you shouldn't either."

Chris placed her empty hand on her hip. "I will have you know that, in all the time that I've known him, he's never done _anything _to me."

"Not to you, maybe," Draco shook his head. "But I've heard enough stories about him to make my mind up as to what kind of a person he is."

Chris exhaled impatiently, and shook her head. "Just drop it, Draco. Come on, let's go up to my bedroom. I want to give Osiris some fish."

Draco followed her as she moved along through the foyer, but did not adhere to her request. "He bites _children_, Chris."

"I know that," she shortly replied, not bothering to look at him. "He's a werewolf. He can't help it."

"Yes, he can," Draco argued. "He positions himself by them when the full moon is coming on. He does it completely on purpose."

Draco could tell that this tidbit of information slightly troubled her, but she only shrugged passively in response.

"All right, I didn't want to tell you this, but you've left me no choice," Draco stepped in front of her as they reached the staircase leading to her bedroom. "He rapes women, too. A _lot_ of them."

Chris was able to hide her surprise, but there was a brief second in which Draco saw it flit across her face. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't say that she had known that, for she didn't.

She was curious, though, as to how _he_ did. "How do you-?"

"I saw it," he muttered through gritted teeth. "And when you see something like that ... you don't easily forget it."

Chris stared at him, and then looked back over her shoulder. She couldn't see Fenrir directly, but he was in her mind's eye. "I don't know, Draco-"

"You seriously can't see him doing something like that?" Draco crossed his arms. He cursed himself for the fact that his voice had begun to shake.

She pressed her lips together again, and averted her gaze. "I don't know. Let's just drop it, all right?"

"Do you promise that you won't go around him again tonight?"

Chris stared at him with her eyebrows raised, unimpressed with his possessiveness. She tried to pass him, but he blocked her way. "Promise me, Chris."

"Fine, if it makes you happy," she snapped.

Draco couldn't tell if she would keep her word or not, but he would accept it. "Good."

He let Chris pass him and followed her as she ascended the staircase. When they had just about reached the second floor, she paused and turned around to face him. "I'll just be a few minutes, Draco. Why don't you go back to the party? I'll meet you back there after I give this to Osiris."

Draco was hesitant to leave her alone, for he still had Fenrir Greyback on his mind. However, when he saw the absence of warmth in her eyes, he had no choice but to descend the stairs and return to the party. He glanced back up at her when he had reached the bottom to see if she had maybe changed her mind, but it was to no avail. Her hand was back on her hip, and he knew that that meant disapproval.

With a sigh, he made his way back down the hallway. He would be sure to keep an eye on Fenrir Greyback. So long as he remained in his vision, Chris was safe upstairs.

Chris let out a long sigh as she shut her bedroom door behind her. Of course - it all made sense now. Why had that thought never occurred to her before?

All the times that she had been alone with him ... was every single one of them a close call? Her skin crawled at the thought of the first and only time that he had actually laid a hand on her. She still recalled the feeling of his long, yellow fingernails scraping along the side of her upper arm. When she strained her memory, she could remember the way that he had looked at her, too; his lamp-like eyes were alight in excitement. She shuddered as she thought about what might have happened to her if her father hadn't interrupted him.

Of course, that meant that it couldn't just be adult women that Fenrir would violate. She had only been six years old when that had happened. She remembered what Draco had said about him positioning himself near children in order to bite them when the full moon materialized in the night's sky. Did Fenrir have more of an inclination towards children than Draco let on?

'_Well, happy birthday to me_,' she bitterly thought as she set her plate down on the floor for Osiris, who had compulsively began to rub up against her leg when he had caught the scent of salmon.

She didn't know quite how to feel. She felt sick, for sure, but did she feel angry? She figured that she might, but she couldn't understand her own feelings for the time being. It had happened a long time ago ... but then again, it _hadn't _happened. Why should she feel _anything _about it? It had been avoided, and she had turned out all right in the end.

She shook her head as she ceased that thought. She wished that she had let Draco come up with her. She could have talked to him about it, but now he was out of reach. Chris didn't feel as though she could go back downstairs. Not while Fenrir was there, anyways.

She slouched as she sat down on the side of her bed, and watched Osiris lap up his salmon. An idea struck her, but she didn't know if it was a good or a downright awful one. Her eyes slowly made their way across the room towards her closet, and they hovered there as she thought. It had been a few years since she had last drank, but there was still a stash of Firewhisky in her closet from when she did.

She looked back at Osiris, and a sigh accompanied her contemplation. She wouldn't have enough to get drunk - just enough to forget her problems for the time being. Then, she could return to the party, have fun, and worry about her troubles the next day.

That couldn't take too much, could it?

She stood up and made her way across the room. Osiris looked up from his food and watched her, as though he knew what she was doing. Chris tried her best to ignore his following gaze.

She got down on her hands and knees, and blindly reached under a pile of shoes for the bottle of Firewhisky that she had put there two years ago. As her fingers grazed the bottle, she started slightly when she felt something pressing up against her side.

"Not now, Osiris," she cooed as she pushed him back towards the closet's exit. He sauntered away, but did not move far. As soon as he was out of the closet, he lay down on his side and stared in at her.

Chris smiled as their eyes met, but she soon went back to her initial objective. She reached for the bottle once again, and pulled it from its hiding place. With a sigh, she studied it. She couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in herself. She had promised that she would never do this again. The last time had been too costly for her. It was strange ... even though it had happened over a year ago - actually probably closer to a year and a half - and she had been intoxicated, she could still remember a bit of the conversation that they'd had before the downward spiral began.

_She took a swig from the bottle, and giggled as she clumsily wiped the excess alcohol from her mouth. "Draco, this stuff works miracles, I tell you. Every drink I take, you look MUCH better!"_

He laughed, even though he was offended. He took the bottle from her, and mirrored her actions. "Is that right. Well, I'm glad it's working for YOU, because it sure as hell isn't working for ME."

Chris scrunched her face up. "I was just kidding. You looked good enough to begin with."

A small flutter of her heart accompanied her smile as she reminisced her last minutes of sexual purity. However, her smile hurriedly faded as she thought about what had come next.

She couldn't believe that she still remembered it. As she recalled, though, she had tried very hard to commit it to memory afterwards. She didn't want her first time to be a lost experience. She _still_ didn't.

They had been in the Room of Requirement, and it had been late on a Saturday night - nearly curfew. Draco had promised to meet her there and when he arrived, he had begun to boast about how he'd managed to steal away into the school's kitchen. When she asked him what he'd made off with, he showed her the bottle of Firewhisky.

By that point in her life, she had already developed an affinity towards Firewhisky and its bitter taste. She had even grown accustomed to the burning sensation that it left in her throat. She did not hesitate to suggest opening it, and she now often wondered if she and Draco would have gotten together if they hadn't.

It seemed logical to assume that they wouldn't have, but was it the truth? Since Harry had been so preoccupied with the fact that the Dark Lord had returned, she had found it a lot easier to sneak away and spend time with Draco. Because of that, she had begun to feel something stronger towards him than just friendly admiration and, even though it was completely out of the question to date, like, or even _associate _with a Slytherin outside of the classroom, she couldn't help herself. She liked Draco, and she wanted him for herself. She even suspected that Draco was beginning to sense her jealousy when he told her stories about being in a relationship with Pansy.

Try as she might, she couldn't remember what had ultimately led up to their sinful act. She didn't remember if there was further conversation, some touching, or if it was maybe even both. She only remembered the brief words that they had exchanged, and then-

She shook her head slightly as she felt something stirring within herself. It didn't matter how long ago it had happened, or how intoxicated she had been. It still had the ability to pique her emotions, and send a small tingle through her body.

She remembered that they had initially been in a hurry. The fact that they might have been caught was originally on their minds, but it dissipated as they became lost in one another. Because they had rushed into it, they had not bothered in completely undressing. Chris remembered regretting that as they furthered their time together. She had felt as though there was still something between them and had actually _tried _to remove the remainder of their clothing, but had given up when she discovered how difficult it was when Draco was not willing to cooperate.

That thought had lingered with her throughout the entire affair. She wanted more than just an intimate union with him: she wanted to see him naked, and she wanted _him_ to see _her_. As she thought about it now, it seemed like a trivial concept, but at the time, it had seemed like the most important thing in the world.

Chris exhaled as she paused in her thought. She pulled out the bottle's cork and smelled its contents. She wrinkled her nose and inhaled sharply as a strong odor hit her. It even made her eyes water, causing her to blink compulsively.

She hesitated no further. She lifted the bottle to her lips and took a mouthful. She hurriedly swallowed, and began to cough and splutter as it coursed itself towards her stomach. Firewhisky was stronger than she remembered it being. Perhaps this particular bottle had aged during its time in the bottom of her closet.

With the tingling sensation of the alcohol came a flash of memory, directly from the act itself. She tightly shut her eyes, but it was no use. It was already burned into her mind.

The temporary flash brought the entire deed to light. She suddenly remembered everything, and it washed over her like a tsunami.

_"I thought that it'd be funny to do a panty raid on Umbridge," Chris told Draco with a laugh. "I suggested the idea to Fred and George, but they didn't seem too keen on it. Or, well, they thought it was a good idea, but they said that if they did it, it would be ME who grabbed her underwear. Well, that was COMPLETELY out of the question-"_

Draco laughed along with her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "I would have been fully behind that."

"Wow, I actually got your approval," Chris mocked him with a wide grin. "It only took, what, two years? Shit, dude. How long have we even been friends?"

Draco bit his bottom lip, and when he spoke, he returned her smile. "For far too long."

Chris stared at him in innocent disbelief, and then scoffed. "And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Draco's smile flittered and he looked away, embarrassed. "I don't know-"

"Oh, but I do," Chris raised an eyebrow as she moved from her spot, taking up a new one across his lap. She cupped his cheek, and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, holding herself against his body. Her smile widened as she examined the flustered expression that he had donned, and felt his arm snake around the small of her back and come to a rest on the side of her thigh.

"I have to warn you, Chris," Draco spoke after a hard swallow. "You're making it very hard for me to restrain myself-"

"Then don't," she stated.

"It's not that simple," he told her with a shake of his head.

"Of course it is," she shrugged. "What do you want to do more than anything in the world, right now?"

Draco stared at her, and it seemed to Chris that he was pondering as to whether or not he should go along with this. "Well, I WOULD like to kiss you."

"Then what are you waiting for? My approval?" She asked with a tilt of her head. "I already got yours, earlier. It only seems fair for me to offer mine back."

It had not been long before Draco conformed to his own wish. Chris had initially intended for it to be as it was: an innocent kiss. As they progressed, though, she was finding it harder and harder to pull away. It was not long before she was straddling his hips, and making sure that no space was left between the two of them. She remembered the feel of his grip on her hips and lower back as he attempted to get beneath her shirt and feel the skin beneath.

Chris impeded his progress at first, but when he had moved down to her thighs, and took to pushing her school skirt towards her hips, she knew that they had gone beyond the point of no return.

When Draco had nearly succeeded in his new objective, she had broke their kiss and climbed off him. He watched her in confusion and disappointment initially, but his eyes grew wide in understanding as she slowly took off her shoes, stockings, and finally her panties. She remembered the way that he had stared at her, and she recalled blushing a deep shade of red, even though she still had her skirt on, and no crucial skin was exposed.

She sat back down next to him on the couch, expecting him to do something, but he didn't. He only continued to stare at her, his jaw slack enough for his lips to be slightly parted, and his expression relatively blank. Chris couldn't tell what he was thinking - if he thought that she was crazy, or otherwise.

_"What?" she asked with a small, suggestive grin. "Are you just going to LOOK at me for the rest of the night?"_

Chris paused to take another drink of the Firewhisky. That phrase had triggered what would come next. If she hadn't have said it, it may have been avoided.

_Draco made a fidgety move towards her, but then lost heart, mumbling something about Pansy._

"Draco," she purred his name, and crawled towards him on the couch. "Forget about her for just one night. It's not like she'll ever find out. I won't tell if you don't."

Draco pressed his lips together in thought, but he was soon distracted. Leaning in, Chris began to kiss and nip his neck, collarbone, and shoulders - any exposed skin that she could reach.

As she commenced to give him a hickey at the end of his jaw line, he spoke to her in a hushed voice. "Before we do, Chris, I want to tell you something."

She paused in her ambition and whispered her reply into his ear. "What is it?"

She felt Draco swallow hard before he addressed her again. "I never wanted Pansy."

"Oh?" she asked, stopping and placing her forehead against his as he turned to face her.

He slowly nodded. "Yeah. It's true."

Chris studied him with her brows furrowed. "But, then, why are you going out with her?"

"Because I can't have who I really want."

"Of course you can," she replied, looking down at his lips as they slowly hovered closer towards her own. "I'm right here, waiting for you to make your move."

She took another drink. She hadn't thought that he was serious when he spoke those words. He had laughed - they both had - after she said them. She figured that he was at the point where he would say anything to have the opportunity she'd laid out before him.

They were the last words that were spoken between them for the time being. Their lips collided once again when their laughter subsided, and their bodies were not far behind. She had thought that, having had a good amount of the alcohol that he had brought, Draco would have been clumsy in his actions. She soon found that she was sorely mistaken. It seemed that after two years of being sexually active at that point, the routine was drilled into his mind.

She couldn't remember if she had tugged his pants down, or if he had done it himself. She _did_ remember, however, that he had been the one to finally manage in pushing her skirt up. She felt another tingle move through her body as she recalled the way that he had felt her up as he did so. As she remembered it, it had been this action that led to her pleading ... her pleading for him to kiss her, to touch her, and, eventually, to take her.

_His breathing was ragged in her ear as he finally removed his lips from her neck and lined himself up to fulfill her persistent request. "Have you even done this before?"_

"It doesn't matter," she moaned in reply, kneading her fingers into his back. "Just do it."

"It's going to hurt if you haven't," he informed her. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"I don't believe you," she brushed him off, ignoring the second part of his statement. "Do it!"

There was a pause on his end. "Don't say that I didn't warn you, then. You're absolutely sure-?"

"Yes!" she cut him off. "Please, Draco..."

He sighed in surrender, and hoped that she was ready for what he was about to do to her. He considered doing it slowly, but he had learned in the past that the initial discomfort subsided quicker if it happened fast.

With that thought, he thrusted himself inside her. He cringed as he felt her flesh tear and her grip on him tighten enough to break the skin beneath his shirt. She emitted a small gasp, and her body instantly tensed up against him.

He pulled far enough away to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry."

Through her pain, she managed a weak smile. She pushed some of his hair away from his face as she muttered her reply. "I'll be okay. It's nothing that I can't handle. Just give me a minute, all right?"

Chris tried to drink more of the Firewhisky, but found that she had already emptied the bottle. She uttered a curse under her breath, and wondered if there was more in her closet. She tried to stand up, but the room began to spin.

She hadn't meant to get drunk. Angry with herself and her lack of willpower, she threw the bottle against the opposite wall, much harder than she meant to. It shattered, but Chris could care less. Apathetic towards the mess that she had just created, she lay back across her bed.

She had never felt anything like it in her life. It was pure euphoria, being with Draco that night. It had been painful at first, but he was careful with her. He seemed to sense when her soreness had subsided, though, for his touch and method had grown rougher when her discomfort had finally been eclipsed by absolute pleasure and enjoyment.

Chris still felt her cheeks tinge when she thought about it. She felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered that she had somewhat lied to Draco when he had brought the entire affair up near the beginning of the summer. She had made it sound like it had been _his_ fault that they had gotten together in the Room of Requirement that night in early March.

Her thoughts turned dark as she considered the chain of events that ensued their brief union. Her experience had been nothing sort of breathtaking up until the point that their encounter slowly came to a halt. She smiled through her drunken haze as she remembered the way that he had held her afterward, and had made her feel safe when she felt completely vulnerable to the world.

_She smiled as he gently kissed her on the forehead. Her body was beginning to feel sore as she lay beneath him, but she didn't mind the weight. She could stand it for as long as he wished to stay there._

He smiled back at her as he placed his forehead against hers. She took to lightly stroking his jawbone and cheek, and made no attempt to break the eye contact that they had established. "What is it?"

"Hm?"

"You look like you want to say something."

He shook his head. "No, it's - nothing."

She temporarily ceased in her actions as she considered him, and then decided that she would not push him to say it if he did not want to. "All right, then. God ... I just can't get over it! If I knew that it felt THAT good, I would have started a lot sooner!"

Draco chuckled, and leaned in to kiss her. "It's not usually that good. You just got lucky and ended up with the right partner to show you the ropes."

"That wasn't egotistical, or anything," she giggled in reply, adjusting herself as Draco made to rest his head on her shoulder.

He didn't respond, but instead took to absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair. The sensation pushed Chris further and further towards slumber with every stroke. She was nearly there when Draco spoke the words that would change everything.

"I love you."

Her eyes snapped open, and her body grew tense as a lead weight became apparent in her abdomen. Her thoughts began to race as she registered the full meaning of what he had just said to her. Did she hear him right?

"Chris?" he whispered in her ear. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah," her voice was hollow, and she was beginning to panic. She needed to get out of there, and fast.

"Can you get off me?" she asked him, and immediately cursed herself. She had wanted it to sound as though nothing was wrong, but her voice had been abnormally high. He would surely detect the anomaly.

He glanced up at her, and when he realized that she was serious he did as he was asked. As soon as she was free of his presence, she got up off the couch and made a beeline for the pile of clothing that she had made earlier. She busied herself in putting her panties, stockings, and finally her shoes back on. Behind her, she could hear Draco shuffling around as he pulled his pants fully up and zipped his fly.

She looked back at him, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere between them had suddenly grown awkward, and she desired nothing more than to just run away from him and not stop until she had reached her bed. Even the Gryffindor common room would be sufficient enough. She just wanted to be somewhere where he couldn't reach her.

Chris grimly smiled as she thought of something that had succeeded this event. She had not personally witnessed it, for it had happened within the Slytherin common room, but she had heard about it when it traveled through the school as Monday morning's gossip.

Pansy discovered the hickey that Chris had left on Draco sometime during Sunday morning. This thought came back to Chris sometimes, and she still laughed at it. It had not been entirely funny at the time, though, for the main gossipers of Gryffindor, Lavender and Parvati, had fervently attempted to find out who Draco had cheated with. They had given up when their search led them nowhere, to Chris' utmost relief. She hadn't told anyone about the encounter and, since no one had seen them, she assumed that Draco hadn't spilled the beans either.

"Christina, are you in here?" her mother's voice penetrated her thoughts. Chris sat up on her bed and saw that her mother looked on in fury as she noticed the pieces of glass from the broken bottle strewn across her floor. "_What_ have you been doing in here? Is this _Firewhisky_? Oh, _Chris_, you promised that you had stopped drinking this-"

"I only had a little bit," Chris replied. She was surprised to find that her voice wasn't slurring as bad as she thought it would be. She _had_ been up here for quite a while. She must have started to come down off her buzz.

Cynthia sneered, and then snapped her fingers. A house elf immediately appeared next to her. Before it could address her, Cynthia barked her order. "Clean this mess up."

The house elf bowed, and went to work.

"I have to go downstairs to get ready for the toast," Cynthia told Chris as she made her way back towards the door. "I'm going to send Draco up. He'll help you down, since you're probably too drunk to stand."

"I'm not _that_ bad!" Chris hollered as her mother slammed her bedroom door. Deciding to prove herself, she stood up from her bed and made her way towards the exit.

She held herself well as she made her way down the staircase, although there were a few instances in which she had to take hold of the banister. As she reached the foyer, she came face to face with Draco.

His face was pale, and when he spoke, he did it quickly. "Listen, I really need to talk to you. There's something that I need to tell you."

His mother had just sent him into a panic, having told him that Cynthia was to announce the marital arrangement to the guests. He didn't want Chris to find out this way. He had wanted to tell her himself.

Chris waved him off. "Just wait for a few minutes. My mom wanted me to come down here-"

She tried to move around him, but he grabbed a hold of her wrist. "No, you can't. Please, Chris. Come with me-"

"Let _go_ of me!" she yelled, and pulled herself from his grasp. She stared at him for a second, furious, and then marched off towards the sitting room, where the guests seemed to be gathering. In the middle of the room, Cynthia and Narcissa stood with their champagne glasses raised.

"I would like to make an announcement," Cynthia addressed the room's occupants, forcing them to lay their conversations aside. "Could I have Christina join me up here, and Draco, please?"

From behind Chris, Draco tried to pull her away from Cynthia's line of vision, but she saw her daughter before he had succeeded. Cynthia waved at her, and then gestured her forward with her finger. Draco had no choice but to follow her when his mother did the same to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hurriedly to her as they moved through the part in the crowd.

Chris gave him a strange look. "Why? What did you do?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but was unable to when they had reached the center of the room. He began to perspire as he and Chris joined each of their mother's sides, separating them. He exhaled heavily, and directed his attention towards a large landscape painting on the wall opposite. This was it. The way in which she took the news would determine his future in the relationship department.

"As you may all know," Cynthia began speaking again once Draco and Chris had resumed their positions. "Draco and Christina are now both of age, Draco being so as of the fifth of June. As is customary in the Pureblood tradition, it has now come to a time when we must give them away."

Chris understood what her mother meant, and giggled slightly. Was this supposed to be some sort of a silly, pretend auction?

"Of course, the fact that they are of the same age and only a few months apart has been extremely convenient for us," Narcissa continued where Cynthia had left off. "We have been spared the chore of determining fit life partners for them and have instead decided that they will be wed to one another, as they already know."

Chris giggled again as the crowd politely clapped. She looked over at her mother, expecting her to be laughing as well, but she was as serious as serious could be. She stopped smiling, and glanced over at Draco. He was looking back at her with an apologetic expression, and was as solemn as her mother.

It suddenly hit Chris: these arrangements were serious, too. She continued to stare at Draco in her shock and she realized, by his expression, that he had known. That was why he had tried to apologize on their way up to the front. He had been aware of what was to happen, and he had never told her.

A barrage of thoughts clouded her mind, and she began to hyperventilate. Every interaction between she and Draco this summer raced before her mind's eye, and she slowly caught on to what had been going on beneath the surface in that time.

She needed fresh air. Her head throbbed, but it wasn't a product of the Firewhisky that she had consumed. As the crowd turned their attention away from the four people in the center of the room and returned to their conversations, Chris moved towards the room's exit without glancing back at the other three. She _couldn't_ look back. The longer that she thought about it, the angrier she grew.

She thought that she was alone, but as she made her way out of the front doors she heard someone calling her name from behind. She knew that the voice belonged to Draco, and hurriedly concluded that he was following her. She did not want to see or talk to him, and so she began to move beyond her initial destination. She passed the front steps and stepped onto the walkway, but soon realized that she had not left Draco behind. He was still running after her, and was quickly catching up.

"Chris, I'm so sorry," he frantically apologized. He prohibited her from continuing on by blocking her way. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to-"

"How long have you known?" she cut him off and narrowed her eyes as she sneered at him. Her voice quivered with restrained anger.

He didn't want to answer her, but knew that he needed to come clean. "For over a month."

Chris exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm herself down. She had thought maybe a few days or a week at the most, but a _month_?

She crossed her arms, shook her head, and tried some deep breathing again as an effort to subside her swelling anger. It did nothing to help. "Holy _shit_, Draco."

He sighed, and dropped his gaze in shame. "I know. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I - I just couldn't."

Chris opened her mouth to reply, but found that she did not know what to say. Why hadn't he just _told_ her? She wanted to ask him, but when she went to do so, she was distracted as she found a startling sight.

"Draco, what are you doing?" she carefully asked, a hint of alarm prevalent in her voice.

He had bent down on one knee, and sighed as he gathered himself. "I want to do this the right way. I don't like the idea of an arranged marriage anymore than you do, so here goes - why are you shaking your head?"

She was indeed doing so, and making small, slow steps away from Draco. "You can't be serious. I can't possibly do this. I'm only seventeen years old!"

"The wedding won't be for a few years," Draco hurriedly replied as he got up from the ground. "You'd have plenty of time to get accustomed with the idea-"

She groaned, and furtively rubbed her temples. "Why didn't you tell me about this? Why was it so hard?"

Her eyes drilled into him, and he melted under her stare. "Because, well - er, you were with..."

He trailed off, but Chris understood what he was trying to get across to her. Even though she was already angry with him, she could feel the Firewhisky in her system beginning to fuel her rage. "You didn't tell me about this because I was with Harry? What kind of a stupid reason is _that_? So, let me get this straight, then: I have a choice as to whether or not I want to marry you. How do I know that? Because if I _didn't_, you would have told me. You would have known that I couldn't get away from you. Well, you know what, it doesn't matter what kind of a reason you can give me, or what kind of logic you show. I'm not marrying you, Draco."

Draco stared after her as she made her way back towards the house. "What? Why not? Chris, stop!"

He ran after her, but when he made to grab her upper arm, she dodged his grip. "Because I can't trust you, is why!"

Draco paused, and took a step back as she stopped to confront him. "You _can_ trust me, though. Don't forget: I didn't tell anyone about what happened between us-"

"I don't care about that!" she yelled back at him. "I'm talking about _now_. What's all this shit that you did over the summer, acting like you really cared about me? I know what you were trying to do, now. You were trying to make me fall for you, weren't you?"

Draco hung his head again. It didn't sound good when she put it that way, but it was the truth.

Chris stared at him in outrage. She had half expected, not to mention hoped, that he would refute this. "Well, then, you'll be glad to know that your little plan worked. But, you know what, Draco? I'm not an idiot. It ends _tonight_."

Draco expected to feel his heart flutter at the proclamation that she had indeed developed a crush on him over the summer, but it never came. The rest of her statement overrode it, causing a feeling of dread to fall over him instead. "What ends tonight?"

She crossed her arms, and paused to think. "I don't want you to _ever _talk to me, again. Ever since we - ever since _it_ happened, things have never been the same, and they never will be."

"You don't know that, though-"

"The fact that you hid something this big from me, and tried to alienate me from my boyfriend is enough in itself to ensure that you will never have my hand in marriage," she snarled as she advanced on him. "That's what you've done. Oh, wait! Let me guess: it gets even better, doesn't it? I suppose that this is also some sordid attempt to get back at Harry for everything he's ever done to you, and for all the Quidditch matches that he's shown you up in! Oh, wow, haven't _I_ been stupid to get caught up in this!"

Draco stood his ground. He had a feeling that she was only trying to get a rise out of him with the second half of her statement. "That's not true, and you know it."

She ignored him, and entered his personal space. Draco could smell the Firewhisky on her breath when she spoke. "Admit it: you tried to alienate me from him."

Draco sneered at her, and did not back down in the face of her accusation. "I didn't even _need _to."

To his surprise, she smiled and laughed. "And out comes the Draco Malfoy that I know. You see, I _knew _that something was up this summer. You were being _far_ too nice to me-"

"I've always gone out of my way to be nice to you. You even said so yourself."

"Not _this_ nice, though," she corrected him, stumbling as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You know what, Draco? You are a _complete _asshole-"

Draco grabbed her wrist, and yanked her towards him. She cried out in pain, but he couldn't have cared less. "You listen to me, and you listen good: I _never_ acted when it came to you. If I said something to you, I meant it-"

"It wasn't what you said to me," Chris hissed in an undertone. "It's what you _didn't_ say!"

"Do you have _any_ idea how badly I wanted to tell you?" Draco sneered at her, and twisted her wrist again. "Not a day went by when I thought that I should tell you about what our parents were going to try and force us through-"

Chris had finally managed to pull herself free from his grip, and slapped him as hard as she could across his face. She hit him with all her weight behind it, and with all of her rage. Winded, she smirked as she watched him stumble back. When he stood up straight, Chris saw that she had broken the skin when her fingernails scraped against his cheek.

Draco trembled in anger as he attempted to stem the bleeding, and spat at her feet. "Bitch."

Her smirk fell, and her eyes began to shine maliciously in the dimming light of the sunset. Her body tensed up as her upper lip began to curl. Her hands balled into fists, and Draco hardly had a second's warning before she had launched herself at him.

He managed to grab a hold of her wrists before she could reach him, and was immediately surprised at the amount of force behind her combined strength and temper. Because he assumed that she was only trying to hurt him with her arms, he forgot about another potential weapon that she boasted.

She pushed his hands out of her way, and Draco only saw a flash of her blonde head before he felt her teeth sink into the base of his neck. In his surprise, he let go of her hands and attempted to pry her away from him. He cried out in pain as he succeeded, for Chris had taken a chuck of his flesh with her. Draco clutched at the open wound, and reeled back as his head began to spin from the pain and the loss of blood.

Chris hurriedly spat her mouth's contents out onto the ground before she began to approach him again. She was still not satisfied with the level of injury that Draco had sustained at her hands. Her eyes flitted across his body as she attempted to plan her next strike. She wanted Draco to physically see what she could do to him, and decided to remain above his shoulders.

With a cry of fury, she ran forward towards him. However, she had not taken two steps before she felt two arms close in around her waist and pull her up off the ground. Confused, she lashed out against whoever it was that held her, but it was to no avail. They were too strong.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" the person bellowed. She dully realized that it was her father who held her back from her target.

"Let me go," she muttered back as she plunged her fingernails into his arms. His hold momentarily loosened as they broke the skin, but he didn't let go of her.

"Lucius, help me," he grunted as Chris nearly succeeded in escaping him.

Lucius nodded and attempted to comply with Eric's request, but was pushed back as he was hit in the nose by Chris' stray elbow. Though his eyes began to water fervently, he took it in stride and dove towards her again, this time succeeding in taking hold of her left arm. Eric grabbed her right arm, and took to dodging Chris' feet as she began to kick at the two men that held her.

Chris didn't care who she had to hurt to get back at Draco, who was now being tended to by his frantic mother. She had grown pale when she saw the wound that he had sustained from Chris' attack, and fretted when Draco tried to push her away. He tried to explain that she was obstructing his view, but she didn't seem to be listening to him. If Chris was going to break free of their fathers' combined grasps, he wanted to be the first person to know.

"Give me your wand, and I swear that I'll do it!" she screamed in her father's direction. "I'll _kill_ him! Give me your wand!"

Cynthia clapped a hand over her mouth in horror as she took in the sight before her. Her eyes traveled from her struggling daughter and the blood that dribbled down her chin to Draco, who was growing paler with every passing second.

"Take her up to her room and lock her in," Cynthia instructed her husband, and then moved towards Narcissa, who was beginning to make some headway in calming down her son.

"I HATE YOU, DRACO MALFOY!" Chris shrieked as she was dragged up the front steps, getting his attention. Eric clapped his hand over her mouth in an attempt to stem her speech, but he only succeeded in earning himself a wound as Chris bit down onto his fingers.

"That's enough!" he yelled in her ear as he pulled his wand out from his back pocket. "_Silencio_!"

Even though she had been silenced, Chris still tried to continue expressing her abhorrence towards Draco. He didn't need to hear what she was saying as he watched her be pulled away. Her body language said it all, and he could see the hatred in her eyes.

Cynthia considered it lucky that all spare a few party guests had left before this had happened. However, one guest that had remained behind long enough to witness Chris' attack on Draco watched on only in interest as the girl was towed back into her home. She considered what she had seen, and was quite impressed. With a small nod of self-confirmation, she moved towards another of the guests that had stayed later.

"Bella," the Dark Lord greeted her with a small nod, but did not take his attention off the scene before him.

"My Lord," she replied in a soft tone, and imitated his actions. "What do you make of this?"

"I assume that the arranged marriage is called off," his eyes narrowed. "As do you, I would imagine."

"Yes, that _could_ be true," she stared in Eric and Lucius' direction as they attempted to force Christina through the doorway. "I must admit that I have never seen such a thing before."

"I haven't, either."

"She may have just rejected my nephew, and may end up marrying someone of quite less ranking but, I must admit, she has shown some _real_ spirit tonight," she relayed to the Dark Lord as they continued to watch the doorway. "And _that_ is hard to come by anymore. I'm going to keep my eye on this one."


	15. Privet Drive

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XV: PRIVET DRIVE

-- -- -- -- --

The Dark Lord glanced across the length of the dining room table, his own plate long forgotten. Before him, his fingers were laced together on the table, and he watched as Bellatrix poked at her food with her fork in nothing more than disinterest. She felt the heat of his stare and glanced up quickly, only to hurriedly avert her eyes once again in respect.

Bellatrix was aware as to what knowledge the Dark Lord desired from her. "Forgive his tardiness, my Lord. He should not be much longer."

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes in irritation. "I would hope not. The Murrays promised me news of the marriage's status within twenty-four hours. It has been nearly three days."

He could be a patient person when it came to some of his more favored Death Eaters, but it was beginning to run thin. He had finally sent Rodolphus to the Murray Manor in Berkshire earlier that evening to find out what was going on.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to offer her ideas on the subject, but she was distracted as her husband finally returned, arriving next to where she sat. Her demeanor immediately changed, and a snarl escaped from her mouth. "Rodolphus, what do you think you're doing? You should know better than to keep the Dark Lord waiting-!"

"That is unnecessary, Bella," the Dark Lord cut her off, even though he appreciated the curtness to the manner in which she addressed her husband. "Well, Rodolphus?"

He tugged at his shirt's collar as his eyes flitted towards his pressing wife. "You would be best to speak to them yourselves, my Lord. They won't tell me anything. I believe they want to speak with _you_, not your messenger. I am sorry, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded, and stood from his seat. He should have known better than to send Rodolphus in his stead, for the Murrays surely would prefer to directly pass the information on to him. His eyes narrowed again as he wondered if this meant that the worst had come out of the situation he had witnessed three nights ago.

"I won't be long," he announced to the Lestranges before apparating to the Murray Manor hundreds of miles away in Britain.

As he assumed, Cynthia and Eric waited for him in their own drawing room. Judging by the grimness of their appearance, he drew his own conclusion. "So, the arrangements _are_ off, then?"

Cynthia glumly nodded, and reached for her husband's hand. "Yes, Christina confirmed her decision early today. We would have come to you sooner, my Lord, but she has been taking drastic measures in avoiding us. We could have probably assumed that she would call it off, but we didn't want to, you know, just in case."

The Dark Lord considered Cynthia's words. "She is still angry at the Malfoy boy, then?"

"Yes, but that is not the primary base of our concerns," Eric spoke up with a brief glance at his wife. "Cynthia and I have been talking, my Lord, and we have grown incredibly worried as to what her rejection of the Malfoy boy could possibly mean in regards to her present and future loyalty."

The Dark Lord looked back and forth between the two people standing before him. "You believe that she will deviate, if she hasn't already."

Cynthia sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "My Lord, you have been watching her for as long as we have. You know who she is with."

The Dark Lord's piercing gaze rested upon Cynthia, and there was silence as he thought. "Yes, but I still remain faithful that it will not impede her upon her journey to becoming a Death Eater. I have already expressed my thoughts to you on this subject."

"My Lord, she has rejected almost _everything_ that we stand for," Cynthia's voice dropped as she confided her and Eric's chief worry to their Lord. "She does not believe in a Pureblood Wizarding world, she associates with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, and, not to mention, she went into Gryffindor house when she most certainly should have gone into Slytherin! What should we do, my Lord? We're slowly losing our grasp on her! She's slipping through our fingers, and falling towards the Order of the Phoenix!"

Cynthia's eyes began to shine with tears of fear and worry for her daughter. The Dark Lord recognized the legitimacy of her concern that Christina would levitate towards lesser beings, but he still did not believe it to be a prospect of the future.

"Cynthia," the Dark Lord reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You and I both know that, no matter what, she will not be lured into the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, she may be more acquainted with our enemies that we should be comfortable with. Yes, her personality may have shown change over time. And, yes, she may not show too much interest in the people that surround her here, but the circumstances surrounding her birth will ensure that things do not stay that way. You know that, Cynthia. I shouldn't have to remind you."

She pursed her lips, and then nodded. "Forgive me for saying this, my Lord, but I sure hope you know what you're talking about."

The Dark Lord would have been displeased with her doubt if he himself did not experience it. "It is just a manner of time before we witness a regression. As you told me upon my return a few years ago, she was on the right path when she was younger. We know that she has it in her to do what we believe she will."

Cynthia nodded as she recalled such a conversation. "Yes, she was doing very well, until she went to Hogwarts and befriended that _repulsive_ Mudblood."

"And because of that, she has grown close to Harry Potter," the Dark Lord agreed with a nod of his head. "I know that you fear she will betray us in the end, but I do not. I believe that her decision to enter Gryffindor house will benefit us in the end."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Simple," the Dark Lord smirked. "We can assume that she has not told Harry Potter and his sordid little friends that her family is involved in my affairs. They do not know that her parents are Death Eaters-"

"How do you know that, though?" Cynthia cut him off. "They may have arranged to get her out of here-"

"But she hasn't left, has she?" The Dark Lord spoke over her, and allowed her a moment of thought before continuing. "I should speak to her. It would be best to find out where she stands on this subject, rather than stand here and hypothesize. Where is she?"

Cynthia shrugged. "I don't know where she went today. She took off right after telling us that she was absolutely certain she did not wish to marry Draco."

"She did not tell you where she was going?"

"No."

The Dark Lord stared off in silence. "She may have gone to see him."

Cynthia clenched Eric's hand tighter. "What should we do?"

For a moment, the Dark Lord was tempted at the thought of confronting her when she returned home, but the thought that he would only further alienate her crossed his mind. "We will do nothing. These things take time, and I do believe that it would be best if we just waited it out."

Cynthia nodded, but did not agree with what the Dark Lord told her. She believed that an intervention was in order, but she would not attempt to change his mind or persuade him. It was sure to only be met with failure. Instead, she bowed in respect and uttered a short reply. "Yes, my Lord."

"You will not attempt to interfere?" the Dark Lord asked.

"No. You have my word."

"Good," he replied with a short nod in each of their directions. "Then I will leave you, and return to Norway. I may return shortly, to further discuss this."

When the Dark Lord disappeared from their presence, Cynthia abruptly turned to her husband. "Eric-"

"Listen to him, Cynthia," he warned her in a stern tone. "He knows what he is talking about. When has he ever been wrong before? Have some faith in Christina."

Cynthia could think of plenty of instances where the Dark Lord had erred, but she would not proclaim them. To express doubt in not only their daughter but also the Dark Lord would earn her serious repercussion, and not just from her husband. "I'll try."

She was slightly surprised to feel Eric's lips graze her forehead. "Don't worry about her, all right? Things will turn out fine..."

A faint snort of disapproval came from beyond the immediate boundaries of the room, but neither Cynthia nor Eric heard it. Wrinkling her nose as she witnessed a brief display of affection between her parents, Chris took the fact that they had turned their attentions towards one another as an opportunity to creep along past the open drawing room doors and towards the general exit of her family's home.

She had wanted to leave sooner than this, but it would have been impossible to leave with the Dark Lord in her home. She had been forced to sit at the foot of the stairs, and listen to the distant murmur of their voices before attempting an escape. It did not matter if she was delayed, though. Harry was not expecting to see her until a few days time, on the train to Hogwarts. He did not know that she planned on seeing him today.

As soon as she was free from her home, she broke into a sprint down the road that would lead her to the area deemed safe for apparating. As soon as she was sure that she was clear from the manor's sight, she slowed to a jog, and then to a walk as her legs grew tired.

Her parents were not keeping as watchful of an eye on her as she thought that they would be. They had given her space when she expected nothing short of and something closely resembling imprisonment. It had given her plenty of opportunities to slip away unnoticed in the past three days, and had given her the chance to realize that Harry was not at his godfather's home in London. She had apparated there time after time, only to stand before and stare at the spot between numbers Eleven and Thirteen of Grimmauld Place. She was absolutely certain that if Harry had seen her waiting there, he would have come out to greet her. The fact that he hadn't led her to the conclusion that he was either staying at a friend's house, or still remained under the roof of his relatives in Privet Drive.

She had decided to investigate the latter first, for if Harry _was_ staying with the Weasley's, then she would wait until school began again to see him. She came to a halt and clenched her eyes shut as she tried to imagine Privet Drive the way that Harry had once described it to her. She did not know if Apparation was _supposed_ to work with only imagination, but it had worked for her when she needed to get to Grimmauld Place. Besides, she thought about how much she needed to see Harry, and the possibility of a bad experience no longer mattered to her.

The air was forced from her lungs as she pushed herself into temporary darkness, and she tried to hold her eyes shut even more in an attempt to nullify her nausea. She felt herself finally come to a halt, and before she even thought of opening her eyes, she hoped with all her might that she had turned up in the right place. It did not feel as though she had lost any body parts during the experience, and that served to heighten her hopes that she had gotten lucky on the first try.

As she opened one eye, her first guess was that she had gotten it right. She looked upon a suburb home, and as she looked up the street, similar upon similar house formed a straight line. She looked around for a street sign, but found that there was not one in the near vicinity.

_'Great,'_ she bitterly thought. _'Now how the hell am I supposed to know that I'm actually on Privet Drive?'_

As though an answer to her question, her attention was drawn away from her thoughts as she heard the rumbling of an automobile engine. She glanced hurriedly up at the car's contents as it came nearer, but when she registered whom it was that she had seen within in, she took a second glance.

Through the windshield, Chris could see the outline of a great burly man in the driver's seat. It was the woman in the passenger seat and the boy sitting behind her that got her attention. The woman stared at her in slight confusion, as did the boy, though he did not try to be as discreet in his gaze as his mother did. As Chris thought about how Harry had described the Dursleys to her, there was no doubt in her mind that she had just laid eyes upon them for the first time.

They turned the corner at the end of the street, and Chris stared after them for only a few seconds before she realized what seeing them here meant: she _was_ in the right place, and she only needed to head up in the direction that they had come from in order to find their home. She glanced up at the house number of the one she had apparated before, and found that she could only be a block or so away from number four, if even.

A thought struck her, and she wondered if perhaps they were heading _towards_ their home. A quick investigation of the house numbers showed that if she headed in the direction that they were going, the numbers escalated. She was quite certain now that they were just leaving, but that didn't give her an approximate time as to how long they were going to be gone. For all she knew, they had just bought a new car, and were driving around the block to show it off to their neighbors.

She hesitated no more, and began to walk in the opposite direction that the Dursleys had been heading in. She counted house numbers as she went, and as she reached number ten, she came to a crossroad and a road sign that said _Privet Drive_.

As she looked ahead on the houses, she counted which one would be number four. As soon as she saw it, she began to walk a little faster. She still glanced up at house numbers as she passed them, and when she reached number four, she realized that she had counted one too many on her way, and would have been knocking on a stranger's door if she had only relied on her house count.

She glanced around one more time for any sign of the returning Dursleys before entering their property. She looked up at the bedroom window that she knew could only be Harry's - and felt her heart flit ever so slightly as a shadow moved across the closed blinds.

She reached the front step, and raised her fist to knock on the door. However, as it almost came into contact with the varnished wood, she hesitated, for another idea had struck her. Smiling ever so slightly to herself, she tried to door handle. It was unlocked.

She pushed the door open, and made sure to shut it as discretely as she could behind her. She headed immediately for the stairs, and tried her best to avoid making any form of noise. At one point, she nearly fully stepped on a creaky stair, but managed to realize it for what it was before making her presence known to Harry.

When she reached the top of the landing, she stopped to listen. She could hear Harry walking back and forth in his room, and muttering beneath his breath. She came to the conclusion that he was looking for something that he had lost at some point during the summer, and began to move towards the slightly ajar door.

She glanced through the crack when she got there, and found that she had been right. He was muttering louder now, was bent over his trunk, and was fervently searching for something. Chris smiled and pushed the door open, this time not bothering to place it back where it had been before. She snuck across the room, and came to a halt when she stood right behind him.

He continued in his search, oblivious to her arrival, until-

"Lost something?"

His reaction was instantaneous. He gave a great twitch of surprise and leapt to his feet, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes until he realized who it was that had joined him. "You - what are - _why_ are you-?"

"I came to see _you_, obviously," she shrugged, and her smile transformed into a grin. "I didn't want to wait any longer."

He placed a hand over his chest, as though it would help to slow his now rapid heartbeat. "Well, geez, you couldn't knock at the front door? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

She laughed, and he joined in with her. "I wanted to surprise you."

He stood up straighter, and smiled at her now that his surprise had wavered. "Well, surprise me, you did."

She briefly laughed again as Harry moved towards her and took her into his arms. She pulled him right against her, and sighed as she thought about how good it felt to be back into familiar territory. "I missed you so much this summer."

He pulled away far enough for their eyes to meet. He cupped her cheek, and placed his forehead against hers. "I missed you, too."

Her smile faltered as she thought about the last time that she had been held like this, and _who_ had held her. She cursed herself once again, for she had not been able to contain these thoughts, or suppress them. As she gazed into Harry's green eyes, she found that they slowly turned to grey, and the surrounding skin grew paler...

She blinked, and her hallucination disappeared. She clenched her eyes shut, and shook her head ever so slightly as she let go of Harry.

Harry stared at her in confusion as she reeled back. "What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

She looked up at him, and forced a smile. "No, nothing's wrong. Sorry about that. Too much excitement, I guess."

He didn't seem to buy it. He nodded, but pressed his lips together as he did so. "All right, then."

An awkward silence passed between them as they considered each other for a brief moment. Chris' mind raced for something with which to break it, but she could not think of a single thing to say. However, she was saved as Harry began to speak.

He considered whether or not he should bring it up, but it had been burning on his mind all summer. He had resolved that it would be the first thing he asked her when he saw her again, and now that time had come.

He decided that it would be best to tiptoe around the issue. "So, how was your summer?"

Chris shrugged. "Pretty all right, I suppose. France was nice."

Harry pressed his lips together again before he uttered his reply. "I didn't think that you had actually gone."

Chris furrowed her brows as she thought about how he could possibly get that idea. "What makes you think that? I went to visit my grandmother. I told you near the end of last semester, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he shrugged, and then sighed. "It's just ... I was under the impression that you were spending the summer with your parents."

Chris swallowed nervously as she wondered what it was exactly that Harry knew. "I _was_ with my parents."

Harry gave her a strange look. "Did they pick you up at the train station?"

Chris stared at him. He had seen her leave with the Malfoys, and had drawn his own conclusion as to whom she had spent her summer with. She felt nothing short of relief when she realized that Harry couldn't possibly know the _half_ of it.

She didn't know how to refute his statement, or explain it. To explain it would mean telling Harry that her parents were close to the Malfoys and, more than likely because of that, Death Eaters.

Harry advanced a step on her, and raised her chin with his forefinger. "Please tell me that you're not a Malfoy, Chris."

She had not expected this. Of course, she could see how he had come to that conclusion, but it was still a very ridiculous concept. She scoffed before replying. "What do you mean, like, Malfoy's sister, or something? _No_, Harry! How in the world would you come to the conclusion that I'm a _Malfoy_?"

She had to squash the little voice in the back of her mind that reminded her just how close she had been to marrying one.

Harry shrugged half-heartedly, and his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "I don't know. It's just - we saw you leaving with them, and Ron somehow managed to sell me onto the idea-"

Chris laughed. "You should know better than to listen to him. You know that he's got more than just a couple crackpot theories roaming around in that head of his."

Harry joined in with her. "Yeah, I suppose. So, what _were_ you doing with the Malfoys, then?"

Chris continued to laugh as she tried to think of a reason either than the truth. "They were just picking me up, is all. As soon as we reached - wherever it was we went - I left with my parents for my grandmother's house."

She had caught herself before mentioning that she had gone to Malfoy Manor, but even _she_ thought it seemed obvious that she had known where she had gone. Before Harry could point out the anomaly, however, she began to speak again. "Don't worry about it, Harry. All right? It's not a big deal, and doesn't bear discussion. Not now, anyways. Come on, I've missed you _all_ summer, and you haven't even greeted me properly."

She could tell that Harry wished to pursue the topic, but she had always known how best to change the subject. Just as she figured would happen, he smiled and reached out to hold her again. "Sorry about that."

His lips came down onto hers, and she was relieved to feel a wave of excitement tremor through her body. She had been worried that, because of everything she had come to feel towards Draco over the summer, Harry had been pushed from her mind and from her heart. She was still angry with him for what he had kept from her, but she had found that her resentment did absolutely nothing to curb her crush on him. She had already decided, though, that she would never admit that to anyone, _especially_ Draco. Her pride and stubbornness would make sure of that.

Harry broke their kiss, and placed his forehead against hers as he once again gazed deep into her eyes. Chris hesitated bringing hers to meet his, for she knew what would happen. However, if she didn't, then Harry would know that something was wrong. She decided to take the chance, and found herself once again lost in the bright green color of his mother's eyes.

For a split second, she thought that they would not change, but she was wrong. The green once again faded to grey before her mind's eye, and his skin seemed to grow paler. Before she knew what she was doing, her lips had crashed against his once more, and he had taken a hold of her hips for support.

To her slight horror, she felt as though she was no longer in Privet Drive and in the present time, but back at the path behind Malfoy Manor a few weeks ago, experiencing with Draco what she had fully intended to before her guilt surfaced. Her mind cried for her to cease this fantasy, but her heart vetoed it. Beneath her ribcage, she could feel her heart pound harder and harder, making her short of breath and eager for more. She deepened the kiss as her mind simultaneously attempted to remind her of her newfound hatred towards Draco. This only fuelled her further, however, though she did find herself sinking her teeth into his bottom lip to demonstrate the fact that her fury still lingered.

"Ouch!" Harry's voice came, and her fantasy came to an end. She opened her eyes to find that she was no longer in the middle of the rain stricken forest, but back with Harry at his aunt and uncle's house in Privet Drive. She felt a deep satisfaction in hurting the boy that kissed her, but that alleviated as soon as she realized that she was devoid of Draco's presence and once again with Harry.

"What'd you do that for?" he asked, rubbing his lip.

She shrugged apologetically, and inched towards the door. "Sorry, Harry. I don't know what came over me. Listen, I should go, all right?"

"Wait, why?" he followed her from his bedroom and towards the stairs. "Seriously, I didn't mind at all. What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter, nothing at all," she hurriedly replied, slipping from his grasp as he reached out for her. "I should just be on my way."

Harry was silent, and he desisted chasing her as they reached the front door. "Why, though?"

Chris managed to push herself into kissing him quickly on the cheek before opening the front door. "I'll see you in a few days."

Her mind raced as she arrived once again on her own family's property, and she did not rush herself as she moved back up the road. What did it all mean? She had felt next to nothing towards Harry romantically until she had seen him as someone else.

Who the hell was she trying to kid? She _knew_ what it meant, but there was no way in hell that she would admit it, even to herself. She hated herself for what she felt, and hated Draco even more for what he had made her feel.


	16. Day One

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XVI: DAY ONE

-- -- -- -- --

It was a strange feat that, as soon as Chris wished the summer would never end, it came to a screeching halt. After the awkward encounter she'd had with Harry and the horrors that she had discovered about herself, she did not know if she would be able to face him again so soon. She desperately needed more time to think. She needed more time to get herself out of the predicament that she felt she had been unjustly forced into.

She reached the bottom of the staircase, and struggled to make sure that her school trunk did not click her heels on its way down the final few steps. When she was certain that she would not be reduced to cussing in pain and aggravation on this particular occasion, she continued on towards the foyer, where her parents waited for her to join them.

Cynthia smiled, and pulled her daughter into a hug when she was within reaching distance. "This is the last time that I'm going to have to see you off like this. I'm going to miss it."

"Oh, _please_," Chris let go of her mother, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "All it means is that you won't not see me for ten months out of the year, spare holidays."

Cynthia's smile broadened. "Yes, I do suppose that's true."

Cynthia moved out of the way as Eric took his turn to bid farewell. "You be good, and study hard."

"I'll try my best," Chris winked at him, causing him to chuckle in amusement. The first smile that she had seen on him all summer finally manifested itself.

Chris stood before her parents, and smiled awkwardly as a small silence passed between them. When she had discerned that they would not be saying anything further to her, she decided that she should be on her way. "Well, I'll write you when I get the chance-"

"You can still change your mind, Christina," Cynthia blurted out. She had tried to restrain herself, but had failed.

Eric shook his head in disapproval, but Chris had not fully heard her. "What was that?"

"You can still change your mind about the wedding," she quickly spoke, and continued before Chris could respond. "If you decide at some point that you _do_ want to go along with it, everything will be set right back the way it was-"

Chris scoffed before letting herself and a trailing Osiris out of the house. "Don't count on it."

As she moved up the road in the morning's fog, she grew more and more annoyed with what her mother had said to her. She wasn't going to see her until Christmas, and _that_ was what she chose to say to her? Chris reasoned that she and Draco getting married was _really_ important to her mother.

That did not mean that it was going to happen, though. She was happy with Harry, and she would remain with him until they were torn apart by the icy grip of death.

However, try as she might to think about a life with Harry, Chris had found it to be nearly impossible. The night before, while having difficulties falling asleep, she tried to imagine what she and Harry's wedding would be like. She could see the decorations, the location, and the guests, but she could not see herself standing next to the groom at the altar.

Chris did not know how to explain this phenomenon besides the obvious answer, but it did not stop her in trying to find an alternative reason. She had found comfort in what had happened last summer, in regards to she and Harry's relationship. She had become alienated from Harry before, when she had not seen him for two months time. However, when she returned to school, she settled right back into her old feelings for him, and everything between them had worked out fine.

Yes, as soon as she grew accustomed once again to the idea of being with Harry, she would forget about Draco, and they too would go back to the way that they had been in the past year. They would not speak, and they would be thought of as enemies amongst the student population. So long as Draco didn't say anything about their summer vacation together, she was safe.

Though, if Draco _did_ say something, it would not be hard for her to deny it. There could not be a lot of people, if any, who knew about their past friendship. Only those who knew of that could entertain the possibility that Chris had developed conflicting feelings in regards to the two most important men in her life, not counting her father. Besides, Draco was incredibly lacking in evidence. There was no way that he could prove the fact that Chris had been at his home. To do so would inquire for a reason, and Draco would know the trouble he'd be in if he were to divulge information regarding the Murrays' summer activity.

Chris shrugged her thoughts on the subject as she reached the point where she would be safe to apparate. She picked up Osiris, and then concentrated as hard as she could on King's Cross. She found that, even though she hadn't seen the train station for two months, she still remembered it as vividly as though she had been there the day before. She felt her body leave her family's property in Berkshire, and chanced opening her eyes when she was able to breathe again. She found herself standing within one of the Apparition Booths inside Platform nine and three-quarters, and hastily moved away from it. There would be, no doubt, future travelers trying to arrive where she had just done so herself.

She moved towards the train, not feeling a huge inclination to address anyone that she knew, or to find any of her old friends. She wished to see Hermione, but she knew that with Hermione came Ron, and with Ron, Harry. As much as she hated to avoid her best friend, she was simply just not ready to see Harry again so soon.

In her subconscious thought, she knew that somewhere within this train station also stood the Malfoys, and she did not wish to risk that awkward glance if they were to see each other. In order to avoid them as well, she made a beeline towards the scarlet engine and its trailing cars.

As she made her way down the corridor within, a few people greeted her, but she only uttered a small reply without even noticing who any of them were. One attempted to stop her and make conversation, but she kept on moving, searching for a place where she could sit for the ride's duration. She moved towards the end of the train knowing that, if she sat further out of the way, there would be less of a chance that she would see Harry, Draco, or anyone else that she did not want to see.

She dared not glance into the compartments as she passed them for any longer than to discover whether or not they were unoccupied. As the end of the train came into view, she began to panic, for none that she had peered into were empty. It seemed that, if she did not find a compartment soon, she would be forced to begin her search all over again.

She came to the last few compartments, and felt her stomach drop as a door opened up behind her and a voice reached her ears. "I know you better than I thought I did."

She glanced back over her shoulder, and her fear was confirmed. There, in the compartment's door, stood Harry. She forced herself to return his smile, and immediately turned back towards where he stood. Now that she had been seen and acknowledged, she could not run away. Not again.

Harry moved out of the way as she approached him, and held the door open for her as she commenced to drag her trunk inside. Even though she was not as happy as she would have liked to be to see him, she couldn't help but realize that, last year, this polite of a gesture would not be one that Harry would have performed. She slowed to thank him on her way in, but thought of a better way to express her gratitude for his politeness.

She cupped his cheek, and her lips briefly passed over his. She slowly and almost hesitantly moved back away from him, but knew that there would be plenty of further opportunity for them to express their affections towards one another once she had settled in. After all, he had somehow managed to get a hold of an empty compartment.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" she asked as she put her trunk away and set Osiris down on the seat opposite.

"Hermione got Headgirl, so she'll be busy today," Harry told her as she sat down next to him. "As for Ron ... I asked him if he could give us some privacy for the train ride. So, he's probably irritating the hell out of Hermione, for lack of anything better to do."

Chris laughed, but felt none of the lingering discomfort between them melt away. "Yeah, I would imagine so. It's too bad, really. I would have liked to see them."

"Ah, well," Harry shrugged as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "We'll have all year to see them. For now, let's just enjoy this."

Chris beamed and leaned in to kiss him again, but faltered when she saw his eyes dash towards the compartment door. "What's the matter, expecting someone?"

Harry tried to laugh her off, but Chris could see through his act. Confused, she also turned to face the compartment door, and was surprised to see that there was a face in the window - one that plainly expressed outrage and shock.

As soon as Chris saw Ginny, she disappeared. Chris hurriedly looked back at Harry for an explanation.

"What was _that_ about?" she asked, pointing her thumb towards the door when he didn't answer her questioning gaze.

Harry's eyes fell to the floor, and he refused to look at her. "It was nothing. I'm sure that she was just startled to find us like this."

"Yeah, I would say so, judging by her expression," Chris agreed. "You'd think that she would be used to it, by now."

He finally looked up at her, and nodded before answering. "Yeah, you would, wouldn't you? Listen, I just remembered: she has something of mine that I left at her house during the summer. That's probably why she was here. She might have wanted to give it back to me."

Harry stood to follow Ginny, but stopped when Chris spoke his name and took a hold of his hand before he could move away from her reach. He realized instantly what she wanted, and did not hesitate to apologize. "Sorry."

He hurriedly pecked her good-bye on the cheek, but did not glance back at her again before running from the compartment. Chris sat in stunned silence, for she had been certain that Harry wanted nothing more than to just spend time with her. After all, he had made sure that they would be rid of Ron until they arrived at the school. What did Ginny have for Harry, and why was it so important that he retrieve it right at that moment?

Chris leaned back in her seat and emitted a hefty sigh as she crossed both her arms and legs. She caught herself entertaining the idea that something deeper was going on between her boyfriend and Ginny, but, with much hesitance, she admitted to herself that she would not be that lucky. That would have been too easy for her.

She paused in her thought. Too easy in what sense, exactly? Was it too convenient in the fact that it would give her a good reason to end things between them?

She scrapped that thought the second that it emerged. She didn't want to break up with Harry. She had spent far too much time convincing herself of this fact to admit the truth now.

No, Harry was not fooling around behind her back. Ginny only had something that Harry deeply treasured, and would return soon enough to explain himself to her. After all, he would not want her to interpret his sudden departure as anything false and unsavory.

She looked back towards the door as she saw movement behind the window. Her expectations were dashed as she saw that it was not Harry, but someone else that she knew by face, but not by name. She recognized the long, dark hair, and the blue eyes that penetrated through it. She had marveled at their brilliant shade the few times that she had made eye contact with this Ravenclaw girl, and would not hesitate to admit her jealousy towards the fact that she too had not inherited blue eyes. Instead, she was stuck with the brown shade that someone further up her family tree obviously boasted, for neither of her parents had brown eyes.

"Hi," the girl briefly smiled at her. "Is it all right if we sit in here?"

"'We'?" Chris replied, looking past the girl. "You aren't alone?"

"No, we were sitting in another compartment when some Slytherins forced us out," the girl shrugged apathetically. It seemed to Chris that this was a normal occurrence for her. "She's just using the washroom. She should be along in a few minutes."

Chris thought of Harry, but then found that she was nodding. "Sure. Make yourself comfortable."

A smile came over the girl, and she fully entered the compartment. "Thanks. I asked a few other people, but they all said no. Cute kitten, by the way. What's its name?"

"This is Osiris," Chris beamed as Osiris curled up into a small ball on her lap. "I got him for my birthday. Er, sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Oh!" the girl sat up straighter when she too realized that she had not introduced herself. "My name is Maya. Maya Wellington. I'm in Ravenclaw house; sixth year."

"Christina Murray," Chris introduced herself, but found that it was not necessary.

"Yeah, I know," Maya smiled guiltily. "I've heard a lot about you from Padma - well, not _heard_, I suppose. More like overheard."

"Padma, huh?" Chris bit into her bottom lip. "Padma Patil?"

Maya nodded in confirmation. It was not long before Maya realized that Chris disliked Padma, and she easily came to the rational conclusion that Chris also felt resentment towards Padma's twin sister Parvati, who was a housemate of Chris'. It was not a stretch for her, either, to also assume that Chris did not enjoy Lavender Brown's company, for she was very close to the Patils.

"Sorry," Maya apologized. "If it helps, I don't like Padma very much either. She sticks her nose into other people's affairs far more than she should, in my opinion."

"So, she's more like her sister than I thought she was," Chris lamented with a shake of her head and a small smile. "I couldn't tell you how many times Parvati has come around Harry and I, searching for something to get us into trouble for."

"Same goes for Padma," Maya shrugged. "I've been lucky, though. I haven't had anything going for me that she would define as interesting."

Chris' smile spread. "You _are_ lucky, then. Oh well, I knew that people like that would find Harry and I interesting right from the start."

"Oh, do they ever," Maya confirmed with a nod and with wide eyes. "I can't even listen to them anymore. They're like, _obsessed_ with finding some sort of scandal. Not just with you, mind you, but with _any_ Hogwarts couple."

Chris laughed, but it was a nervous one. They were _looking_ for a scandal? It was a good thing that they didn't have the ability to look into her family or find a source that they could use to their advantage. Her stomach dropped slightly as she thought of Draco once again, but her previous rationalization on his situation returned to her, and she calmed down.

"You all right?" Maya furrowed her eyebrows in concern when Chris had not replied.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chris regained her composure. "Sorry about that."

"There's nothing to be sorry about - oh, there's Claudia," Maya cut herself off as another head of long, dark hair appeared in the window. Unlike Maya, however, Claudia was obviously not of Scandinavian descent. Her darker skin and eyes caused Chris to wonder if she was from the Middle East, but she did not know if it would be an appropriate thing to inquire upon, or not.

Claudia smiled when she saw Maya, and then her eyes traveled over to Chris. "Hello. I do not believe that we have met."

Chris picked up on the awkwardness in her speech, and immediately sympathized with her. She was obviously new to Hogwarts, and most likely to Britain, as well. Chris remembered what it was like, coming to a new country when you were not fluent in the language, and knew right away that she would do whatever she could to make this girl feel right at home.

"My name is Christina, but most people just call me Chris," she extended her hand in greeting. "It's nice to meet you."

"Ah, Christina," Claudia smiled in return as she shook Chris' hand. "I have always liked that name."

"Claudia is new here," Maya told Chris after Claudia had taken a seat next to her. "She and her mom just moved here from Romania. Her mom's the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher."

"She went to Hogwarts when she was our age," Claudia continued on from where Maya had left off. "This is her first time back. She is very excited, and so am I. I have always wanted to come here. She always spoke very highly of it."

"She's in seventh year; same as you," Maya spoke for her, and Claudia nodded in confirmation when she understood what Maya had said. "She told me that she started learning English a few years ago, and that she's starting to get a pretty good grasp on it now. She still needs a little help, though."

Chris dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "She's doing better than I did, when_ I _first came to Hogwarts. I too had just moved to Britain from another country-"

"Really?" Claudia asked with excitement. "Where are you from?"

"Norway," Chris told her. "Don't worry about not fitting in for even a minute. The people here are great. They'll understand what you're going through - or, well, _most_ of them will."

Chris alluded, of course, to Ron, but Maya took it in an entirely different light. "Yeah, she found that out for herself already. Draco Malfoy and his cronies teased her a little bit when they took over our compartment."

Claudia's face turned dark. "I don't like him very much. He does not seem to have much heart in him."

"Yeah, he's a little bit of an asshole," Chris carefully agreed. She fought down a compulsion to defend him and his actions. She couldn't, though - not with Maya and Claudia.

Maya scoffed. "Yeah, and Pansy Parkinson is no better. You know, I was under the impression that they had broken up. _Ooh_, you should have seen her face when I brought it up to her, Chris. It was so funny-"

"They're back together?" Chris felt her stomach drop for the third time that day.

Maya thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. "I guess so. She got pretty defensive about it, so I can't be _too_ sure. I didn't get a straight answer."

Chris nodded as she digested this information. Had Draco seriously gone crawling back to Pansy after _she_ had rejected him?

"Is something wrong?" Claudia asked Chris when she took to staring lifelessly out the window.

Chris shook her head. "No, not at all. It's just that I was kind of under the impression that he had grown up a little bit."

She looked to Maya for confirmation of her thoughts, but she only shrugged again. "He's always seemed to be the same toe-rag to me. What ever gave you _that_ idea? Draco Malfoy growing up ... that'll be the day that I grow to like him. Both prospects are very unlikely."

Maya added the last sentence as an explanation to Claudia, and they both erupted into laughter. Chris smiled weakly, and forced a small laugh. In contrast to Maya, Chris believed that Draco _had_ done a little growing up, and reasoned that if Maya knew Draco the way that _she_ did, then she would not have said that.

There was still a nagging doubt at the back of her mind, though. Draco had proved to her that he could be secretive and manipulative. This could be something else that he had neglected to share with her: the fact that he was still quite prejudiced against people that were different than himself. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had often relayed this fact to her, but she had always just ignored it, secretly believing that it was _them_ who were prejudiced. To hear it from someone either than her three closest school friends, however, was an entirely different thing.

"Oh, speaking of Slytherins," Maya dropped her voice as she and Claudia ceased in their laughter. "The votes are in."

Chris' stomach did not drop this time, but her heart rate began to quicken. She herself had voted 'Yes' on maintaining the Gryffindor-Slytherin Rule, along with the other student-made rules, but only because Ron had been looking over at her piece of parchment.

"All the rules were voted to stay, but word on the grapevine is that the Interhousal rules might be lifted," Maya told her in a low whisper. "Apparently, the Council believes most of them to just be common sense. I mean, what Gryffindor _would_ want to talk to or be seen with a Slytherin?"

Chris took this as a cue to laugh, which both she and Maya did. Claudia, however, only gazed on at them in confusion. "What are you two talking about?"

"Well, you remember the four houses that I told you about, right?" Maya asked Claudia, alluding to the explanation she had given her back in their other compartment. "There's a Council at the school, elected in regards to and representative of the students' social interests. They came up with a list of rules, and the students voted on which ones they wanted. For example, a Ravenclaw is never to partner up with a Slytherin in a classroom, unless otherwise instructed by the professor, and Gryffindors and Slytherins are never to associate outside of a classroom setting. Of course, these rules _are_ just common sense. I mean, no Ravenclaw would ever partner up with a Slytherin because they know that the Slytherin would just want a free ride to a good grade, and no Gryffindor would ever associate with a Slytherin because of the Slytherin's - oh, how would you put it - _reactionary_ ways."

Chris thought that Claudia would have a hard time consuming that much information, but as soon as she cleared up the definitions to a few words, she completely understood. "_Ah_, I see. But, why have the rules in the first place?"

Maya opened her mouth to answer, but faltered with furrowed brows. Stumped, she turned to Chris. "You want to field this one?"

"Er..." Chris thought about it for a moment, but then shrugged. "I don't know. They were bored, maybe, and came up with the idea? I mean, they didn't really have much else to do before the rules came along."

"Yeah, that'd be my best guess, too," Maya nodded in agreement. "It's stupid, really, but the students really bought into it."

"It used to be that if someone was caught breaking rules - thus placing themselves out of the social norm - they would have to answer to the Council," Chris added in explanation for Claudia. "Now, it is not unacceptable to use physical force to detain a rule-breaker. Of course, for the longest time, that was only reserved for someone who had broken the rules several times, and _especially_ if it was the _same_ rule."

"And now..." Maya trailed off as she considered the Council's doing. "It's ridiculous. Just ridiculous. If the student body had any sense at all, they would vote for no _Council_."

"That's a good point," Chris nodded fervently.

"Why doesn't someone just tell the Headmaster?" Claudia asked with furrowed brows. "Couldn't _he_ do anything?"

"He _could_..." Maya pressed her lips together. "The only problem is that whoever tattles will be marked by a curse, and everyone will know who they are. To tell the Headmaster is social suicide, and not even the most nonconforming student at Hogwarts wants _that_."

They sat in silence for a moment as they considered the nature of the Council. Chris distracted herself from her thoughts by petting Osiris, but it did not seem to help. She reflected upon just how lucky she had been to avoid notice by the Council. She had committed enough 'anti-social' behavior to never be spoken to again by any of Hogwarts' students.

"So, who's _on_ the Council?" Claudia asked to break the silence.

"No one you would know - or, well, I suppose that isn't true," Maya mused. "Do you remember that boy with Draco Malfoy, who had the crooked teeth?"

"Yes."

"His name is Marcus Flint, and _he's_ on there," Maya told her with a sturdy nod of her head. "And _he_, my friend, is an asshole far beyond the reaches that even Malfoy will ever reach."

"Who's the leader?"

"There isn't really one," Maya shrugged. "Or, well, not that _I_ know of, anyway. If there _is_ one, they aren't generally known amongst the student population."

Claudia nodded in understanding. "All right. I get it. Who else is on there?"

"Padma, Parvati, and Lavender are," Chris answered. "They're natural gossips anyway, but they've made their way on there because of that. Their job is to find anyone who may be breaking the rules. And, even _I_ have to admit, they do a pretty good job."

Maya shook her head, and sneered in disgust. "They're only three of eight, though. There are two from each house, as far as I can gather."

"So, Parvati and Lavender are from Gryffindor," Chris counted on her fingers. "Padma from Ravenclaw ... who else?"

"Marietta Edgecombe is the other Ravenclaw," Maya told her. "I have this faint suspicion that Susan Bones is one of the Hufflepuffs, but I don't know who the other one from that house would be. And - I'm fairly convinced on this one - I think that the Greengrass sisters are, from Slytherin."

"Hm," Chris thought long and hard of all the Hufflepuff girls she knew. "What about Hannah Abbott?"

Maya gaped at her. "You know what, that makes perfect sense! Whenever I'm around her, she always seems to be _watching_, if you know what I mean. _Listening_. I never _did_ like her. She was too quiet, and somehow always managed to make me feel uncomfortable."

"I've never minded her," Chris shrugged in slight disagreement to Maya's statement. "I've just never _trusted_ her. A few times, when Harry and I have been alone - or, well, we _thought_ we were alone - she'd always come along. _Just passing_, she said. Yeah, right. More like making sure that no rules were being broken."

"Ah, the 'no sexual relations' rule," Maya sighed nostalgically at Chris' mention of it. "What a waste of time on their part. I don't think they've _ever_ caught anybody going at it, and, as far as I can gather, people are doing it all the time."

"They seem to think that they have," Chris shook her head. "That was what bugged me the most about Hannah appearing whenever we were alone. I think that, maybe, I was subconsciously aware of her involvement with the Council. She always gave me this _look_ when she passed by us, as though she was accusing us of something. Now, I know what that something was."

"Yeah, and no one even gives a crap about that rule," Maya continued on. "They do what they want, and, you know, I'm actually really surprised that that rule hasn't been voted obsolete by the students yet."

"Who's to say that it hasn't been?" Claudia shrugged as she decided that it was finally time to offer her own input. "Maybe they keep it anyway, just for their own interests."

"That's a good idea," Chris stared at her in revelation, and then shook her head in resentment. "You know, there is _nothing_ - I repeat, _nothing_ - that pisses me off more than that kind of thing. They're supposed to serve the _students_, not their own individualistic needs for drama and excitement-"

"Oh, _shit_, be quiet," Maya hurriedly whispered as she indicated towards the door.

Chris fell silent just in time, for Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had appeared through the window, and were peering into their compartment with utmost interest. Lavender spotted Chris, and a would-be friendly smile crossed her face. She said something to Parvati, and then she too glanced at Chris with a fake smile.

"Hi!" they both greeted her with false cheerfulness as they slid the door open. As soon as they had shut the doors behind them, however, their demeanor turned solemn, and any form of happiness that had been present before immediately disappeared.

_'Man, you would have thought that my grandmother died,' _Chris hastily thought before they began to speak.

"We're really sorry to hear about you and Harry, Chris," Parvati spoke in a slow voice.

If Chris hadn't known about Parvati's gossiping ways, and hadn't been so confused about what she had said, she might have believed Parvati to be sincere. "What do you mean, about Harry and I? Nothing's going on between us."

"Exactly," Lavender replied with a glance towards Parvati. "We heard that the two of you broke up over the summer, and that he's gotten together with Ron's sister. You know: Ginny. Isn't Ginny a friend of yours?"

"Not really," Chris shrugged in apathy. "And if Harry and I broke up, that's news to me. Where did you hear such a thing?"

"Why, from Ginny, of course," a strange light illuminated Lavender's eyes. "She was talking to us earlier today, and told us everything. Look, if it helps to take away the sting at all, Harry and Ginny were fighting a little while ago. Perhaps there is still a chance for you to get Harry back-"

"Hold on a minute," Chris cut her off. "What do you mean, Ginny and Harry were fighting?"

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a quick glance. "You have our word, Chris. We passed by a compartment where they were, and we heard a raised voice. When we got closer, we recognized it to be Ginny's. She kept saying to Harry, 'You can't keep doing this!'. Seriously. She kept repeating herself, and waving some piece of parchment around-"

"Ok, that's enough," Maya stood up from her seat. "You have no right to be poking around in Chris and Harry's private lives, and you have no right to tell her lies about her boyfriend. You heard her: they're still together, and they're _happy_. Now, why don't you move along? You're not wanted here."

Parvati and Lavender narrowed their eyes at Maya, who only stared right back at them. Their fear tactics would not work on her. She did not care if she was outnumbered, for she felt confident that if anything were to happen, Chris and Claudia would have her back.

In fact, as the tension elevated between the three girls, Chris stood as well and positioned herself behind Maya, ready for Parvati and Lavender to try anything. Claudia hurriedly followed her, much to Chris and Maya's relief. Chris had learned firsthand in the past that these two girls could be feisty if they wanted to be, and Maya had undoubtedly witnessed some of the catfights.

"Fine," Parvati finally said, backing towards the exit. "You watch yourselves, though."

"All right," Maya nonchalantly replied as she crossed her arms. "Bye, now.

Lavender sneered as Maya insincerely smiled and gave her a small wave, but before she could say anything in retaliation, Parvati had dragged her away.

When they had disappeared, Maya, Claudia, and Chris exchanged a glance of relief, and then took their seats once again.

"Thanks," Maya spoke after a moment of silence.

"No problem," Chris replied for both she and Claudia. "They can fight really dirty, those two. You would have never been able to take them down by yourself."

"_You_ have, though."

"Nah," Chris shook her head. "Not at the same time, I haven't. I know better than to try that. I saw what they did to Luna in her second year when she accidentally bumped into one of them."

Maya stared at her in outrage, and sat up straighter in her seat. "They did something to _Luna_? Those _bitches_!"

Chris slowly nodded. "It was before hardly anyone knew who she was, though, so it's not talked about very often. Well, not amongst the people that _I_ know, anyway. I don't even think that Harry, Ron, and Hermione remember it. Well, they might remember that some Ravenclaw girl got put into her place, but they might not have registered who it was. I wouldn't bring it up, though. It's probably something that Luna doesn't want to talk about."

"I wouldn't blame her," Maya grumbled. "Damn it. It's shit like this that makes me want to _do_ something."

Chris' curiosity was piqued. "Like what?"

Maya thought about it for a moment, but then shrugged. "I don't know."

Claudia, however, did. "Form an anti-Council - er - Council?"

"I don't know about that," Maya muttered under her breath, only loud enough for Claudia and Chris to barely hear her. "I don't know what the price would be for that if you got discovered, but I assume that it's _really_ bad."

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "That was the first rule, or, I guess it was more of a condition, for the Council to come into existence. There couldn't be any other. We had to put our trust into the one we elected. At the time, that didn't seem like a bad idea at all. But - hey, weren't there supposed to be elections last April? Whatever happened to those? Did I miss them?"

"If _you_ did, then I must have to," Maya sneered ever so slightly. "They didn't happen."

"And no one said anything?"

Maya shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps they didn't notice."

"That doesn't seem likely, though," Chris pointed out. "What about the students that were going to _run_ for a place in the Council? _They_ surely noticed."

Maya tried to think of who she knew that might have wanted a place on it. "I can't think of anyone. You?"

Chris shook her head.

They both tried to think further of somebody that had wanted to run for a position on the Council, and Chris finally thought of one. "Ernie McMillan."

Maya looked back at her. "From Hufflepuff?"

"Yeah..." Chris trailed off as something came to mind. "You know, after he had said something about it, I remember seeing him talking to Marcus Flint one day between classes. Now that I think about it, he never talked about running again after that."

"Strange," Claudia offered her thoughts on the subject. "You think he talked him out of it?"

"Most likely," Maya nodded. "You know what? I've just decided that I hate politics."

This proclamation was enough to lighten the angry mood within the compartment, and caused Chris and Claudia to laugh.

"I'm with you on that one," Chris told her as she looked out the window. She had felt a pull where she sat, and realized that the train was finally coming to a stop. "Well, it looks like we're here."

When the train came to a full stop, the three of them stood and gathered their trunks from above their heads. Chris made sure that she had a sturdy grip on Osiris before they left their compartment. If she lost him within the crowd of people making their way towards the carriages, she was certain that she would never see him again.

"_There's_ a carriage," Chris pointed out to them. "Only Neville and Luna are in it."

"Neville?" Maya inquired.

Claudia looked past Maya's head towards the carriage. After hearing what Parvati and Lavender had done to Luna, she was more than interested to meet her.

"Yeah, Neville Longbottom," Chris elaborated. "He's a boy in my year, and house. He's nice."

They made their way towards the horseless carriage, but slowed to a stop when they saw Draco leading Pansy and Blaise Zabini towards the same carriage.

"Uh oh," Chris mumbled under her breath as she felt her stomach drop yet again. A flurry of butterflies birthed themselves in her stomach, but she did not have time to consider her feelings towards the Slytherin before Maya had begun speaking.

"Does he _ever_ give it a break?" she asked. "I can't _believe_ him! He wasn't happy with just taking _our _compartment away from us on the train, but now he's got to bother Luna and Neville _too_?"

"Oh, no, he's not," Chris made up her mind as to what she was going to do. She had entertained the thought of suggesting another carriage, but that had been overridden by her sudden compulsion to pull Draco off his high horse and put him right back where he belonged. She thought of the lies that he had told her all summer, and was fuelled on in her sudden ambition.

She made a beeline towards him, and was followed very closely by Maya and Claudia when they realized what Chris was going to do.

As they moved closer, Chris picked up on the words being exchanged between the Slytherins and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

"I said _get out of the carriage_, Longbottom."

"We were here first. Go find another one."

"I want _this_ one, though, Loony Lovegood. Why don't you stay out of this? Can't you see that the boys are talking-?"

"Hold my trunk," Chris muttered to Maya. Maya gladly took it, and Claudia relieved Chris of Osiris. As she came closer, Pansy saw Chris, and sneered in dislike. Chris returned the favor, pushed her out of the way, and then stopped when she came up behind Draco, who had continued to lean obliviously into the carriage.

Chris tapped him on the shoulder, and then backed up a few steps as he turned around. Before she spoke a word to him, her eyes scanned his cheek. He wore no bandage on his face, unlike his neck, but there was still visible evidence of their last confrontation.

"Move out of the way," she demanded of him. "My friends and I want to sit in this carriage."

Draco scoffed, and then glanced over her shoulder towards Maya and Claudia. A smirk spread over his face, and he looked back down at her. Chris couldn't help but notice a slight stammer to his voice when he began to talk, but it soon disappeared as he grew more confident. "Is that right? Where are your _other_ friends, Murray? Did they go up to the castle without you?"

Chris ignored his question. "What happened to your face, Malfoy? Did your daddy hit you?"

His smirk dropped, to be immediately replaced by a sneer. His eyes flashed maliciously, but it was not he who replied to her insult.

"Shut it, Murray! His father is a respectable-"

"Yeah, and I'm the queen of England," Chris spoke over top of Pansy's voice, and then commenced to ignore her as her attention was turned once again to Draco. "Move."

He crossed his arms. "Or what?"

Chris dropped her voice so that only he could hear her. "I haven't cut my nails since my birthday party. And don't think that I'm joking, Malfoy. I _will_ do it."

Draco stared at her, and replied in an even quieter voice. "You are _such_ a bitch."

"I know," Chris replied. "So, are you going to move, or do I have to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?"

Draco looked over at Blaise and Pansy, and then back at Chris. "Fine. You know what? _Fuck you_. Fuck you_ and_ your stupid friends."

Draco turned to Blaise and Pansy, and then gestured further up the line of carriages. "Come on, let's find another one."

Chris couldn't believe what he had just said to her. Surely, she hadn't touched his nerves _that_ badly. What the hell was his problem? He had applied the insult to her friends as only an afterthought, which meant that it was directed solely towards her. Had he taken her rejection worse than she had thought he would?

"What a pleasant boy," Maya sarcastically commented as she and Claudia joined Chris in watching the Slytherins walk away. "I should find _me_ a boy like that."

Claudia sniggered, but Chris was too deeply disappointed to do so. "Come on, let's just go. Hi, Luna. Neville."

"Thanks for that," Neville greeted Chris with a small nod. "I don't know what his problem is. He's worse to us than he was _last_ year. Judging by his face, though, it looks like he's had a pretty bad summer."

"You saw that, huh?" Maya spoke with glee. "It looks to me like somebody finally did what I'm pretty sure about ninety-five percent of the school population has thought about doing everyday for the past six years."

The five of them laughed, for they could not agree more with her. Luna was the first to speak again once their laughter had subsided. "Neville, this is Maya. She's in my house. And this is - oh, I don't believe we've met before."

"This is Claudia," Maya introduced her as the carriage began to move. "She's just moved here from Romania with her mom. _She's_ our new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor."

"Oh, Professor Parasca is your mother?" Neville asked. "We sat with her on the train."

Claudia laughed. "I imagine that she bored you to death with stories from back home?"

"Bored us? Are you kidding?" Luna's eyes lit up. "She told us about all the creatures she's seen ... which is only _proof_ that they exist! When I get up to the castle, I'm writing my father, and telling him all about it! Have you been sorted yet?"

Claudia shook her head. "No, I haven't. My letter told me that I'm supposed to meet a Professor McGonagall when I get there, and she'll hurriedly sort me before they do the first years, or something like that."

"I hope that you're in Ravenclaw," Luna told her. "Have you seen anything like what your mother has?"

"I will confess that I haven't," Claudia replied with an apologetic shrug. "My mother liked to travel around, mind you. I would stay at home with my grandmother whenever she went on one of her journeys."

"Aw, that's too bad," Luna's shoulders fell. "I would have loved to hear more about the Hammersnouted Pixies."

"Oh, I've probably heard enough myself to be able to tell you all about them," Claudia laughed. "Don't think that she never told _me_ about what she's seen-"

"We've stopped," Neville announced as the carriage reached the front of the school. "Let's get out of here. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic."

"Hear, hear," Chris quietly agreed, and shared a small smile with Neville as he made his way out of the carriage.

Chris followed him, and lugged her trunk behind her as they moved into the Entrance Hall. As quickly as she could, she dropped her trunk - it would soon be apparated up to her dormitory - and Osiris ran off to socialize with the other cats that belonged to Chris' schoolmates.

Her stomach growled loudly as she looked into the Great Hall, and she realized for the first time that day that she was incredibly hungry. She made her way towards it, but was distracted as she saw Claudia and a few other students following Professor McGonagall up the staircase, and towards Dumbledore's office.

"Hey, Claudia!" she hollered over the din of the students.

Claudia stopped, turned, looked around, and then waved when she saw Chris.

"Good luck!"

"Thanks!" she yelled back, and then commenced to follow McGonagall up the stairs and out of sight.

Now that Chris was alone, she made her way towards the Gryffindor table. She saw Harry sitting with Ron near the middle, and realized that he had never rejoined her on the train. He appeared disgruntled about something, however, and Chris thought once again about what Parvati and Lavender had told her. _Could_ Harry have been arguing with Ginny about something?

"Where did you go?" Chris asked as she sat down next to him. "You never came back to our compartment."

"I did, but you looked busy," he explained to her with a small smile. His previous troubles seemed to linger in his mind. "I didn't want to interrupt you and your friends. I didn't know that you hung out with them, to tell you the truth-"

"Yeah, who _were_ those people?" Ron interjected.

"Just a Ravenclaw and a new girl," Chris shrugged. "They're pretty nice. I like them."

She glanced over her shoulder towards where Maya had taken a seat at the Ravenclaw table. She waited until Maya looked in her direction, and then they exchanged mutually friendly smiles and waves.

When she turned back around, she found that Harry fiddled nervously with his hands, and looked nowhere else. She brushed some of the hair away from his face in concern. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he shrugged her off, and commenced avoiding eye contact with her. She attempted to take his hand in hers, but he only moved them under the table and away from her when he saw what she was trying to do.

"Nothing, huh?" Chris dryly commented, and then dropped her voice so that Ron would not hear her. It did not seem to be necessary, though, for he had engaged himself in conversation with Seamus, who had plunked down next to him on the bench. "It doesn't have anything to do with Ginny?"

She finally got a reaction out of him, but it was not one that she expected. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with her. What would make you think that, anyway?"

"Well, I'd just heard that the two of you were having a minor disagreement over something-"

"-Over what I had left at her house," Harry hurriedly replied. "She just didn't want me leaving my stuff lying around. She said that I was going to lose something eventually, and that she wouldn't always be there to pick up after me all the time. Oh, by the way, do you know anything about what happened to Malfoy's face? He looks pretty banged up."

Chris stared at Harry in confusion. Even though he spoke in a monotonous tone while addressing what had transpired between he and Ginny, she couldn't help but sense that there _was_ something wrong. It was quite obvious that she would not get any answer out of him in regards to it, though. Not tonight.

So, she decided to go along with the way he had rapidly changed the subject. "No, I have no idea what happened to him."

"It looks like he and Pansy are back together too," he commented as he stared across the Hall at the Slytherin table. Chris followed his gaze, and saw that Pansy had situated herself onto Draco's knee. Though _she_ looked nothing short of ecstatic to find herself there, Chris couldn't help but notice that Draco seemed absolutely miserable. Pansy paid no attention to him, but instead chatted animatedly with Millicent, her neighbor, while Draco stared at the table.

Harry chuckled and said something gleeful about Draco's misery, but Chris did not comprehend his words. She wondered, instead, why Draco would take Pansy back when he more than obviously did not want to be with her. It had to have something to do with her, she reasoned. Otherwise, why would he put himself into such an awful situation? Was he, perhaps, trying to make her jealous? After all, she _had_ confessed to developing a crush on him over summer, as she recalled.

Blaise sat down next to him, and his misery instantly disappeared, to be replaced by the usual smirk that he wore during his time at Hogwarts. He masked it well, Chris thought, but she could see right through his arrogance. As he spoke with Blaise, Chris noticed tiny discrepancies in his facial expression that hinted towards what went on inside his mind. She began to wonder if perhaps what he had seemed to feel for her over summer was true, and not a lie, as she had dismissed it to be-

"Pst! Chris!" she heard a voice come from the table behind her. She turned around to see Maya and Claudia sitting next to one another at the Ravenclaw table. She grinned at them and waved once again as she realized that Claudia had been sorted into Ravenclaw house, much to Luna's delight. In fact, as Chris watched, Luna stood up from where she sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table and moved towards where Maya and Claudia were.

Chris turned back towards the Slytherin table, and found that she was not the only one participating in what she thought was a private staring contest. Her eyes laid upon Draco again, but she looked quickly away in embarrassment as she realized that he was now looking back. After a moment, in which she thought he would turn his attention elsewhere, she glanced back up.

He was still looking at her. For a split second, Chris thought that he might give her a small smile or even a wink, but that was not the case. He instead seemed to recall what she had said to him down at the carriage and what she had done to him at her birthday party, for he commenced to sneer at her, and did not stop until the rest of the Great Hall fell quiet with the presence of the Headmaster behind the podium at the front of the room.

Draco turned his attention towards Dumbledore, but Chris did not. Instead, she continued to stare at Draco, wishing with every ounce of her mind that he would look back towards her. She wanted to apologize for what she had said down at the carriage, for she had since begun to regret it. She knew that her disrespect towards Lucius and the mention of his wounds had both been a hit below the belt, and she wanted to tell him that she had not been sincere, even though she _had_ meant to taunt him at the time.

He seemed determined not to look at her, though, for his eyes remained fixed on the front of the Hall. Dumbledore delivered a small speech, the first years were sorted, and then Dumbledore delivered his final speech of the night, but Draco's eyes did not waver. Chris did not want to give up, but when the table was filled with food before her, she found that she could no longer do it, in fear of someone else noticing what she was doing.

"Chris!" she heard her name called again.

She peered over her shoulder, and saw that Maya gestured her over. Chris got up from the bench, and moved over to the next table. "What?"

Maya leaned in closer to say something to her, and Chris did the same. "We just heard that the Interhousal rules _were_ called off by the Council. Why don't you join us for dinner, to celebrate?"

Chris hummed in thought, and looked back over towards where Harry sat. He picked moodily at his food, and Chris came to the conclusion that it would offer her a much-needed break from the tension that had been present between them ever since she had gone to Privet Drive. "Sure."

Luna budged up the bench a little bit in order to make more room for Chris to sit. As soon as she was situated, Luna and Claudia commenced the conversation that they seemed to have already been fully immersed in before Chris came over, and Maya began to fill up her plate.

She looked up at Chris to speak, but her eyes hurriedly drifted beyond her, and she fought to stifle a giggle. "Look! Over at the Slytherin table!"

Chris did as she was told, and looked immediately towards Draco. She hadn't thought that what Maya said would apply to him, but she soon discovered that her secret glance before pinpointing what Maya wanted her to see paid off, for it _did_ have something to do with him. She saw that Pansy still remained on Draco's lap, but that neither of them seemed to be eating. In fact, Pansy was whispering something into Draco's ear, and, judging by his facial expression, it was not the most innocent of things.

Seconds later, he and Pansy stood up from the table, and made a beeline towards the exit. When Draco glanced back over his shoulder towards the student body to see if anyone had noticed their sudden departure, Maya succumbed to a fit of giggles. "Hey, Chris ... you want to bet on what they're going to do?"

She spoke it louder than how Chris would have, but Chris soon realized the motive behind her high volume. Padma Patil sat a few seats down the bench from her, and as soon as she heard what Maya said, she seemed to stiffen in her seat. It was very obvious that she was listening.

When Maya was sure of this fact, she began to speak again. "You'd think that they would have had _plenty_ of time to do that over the summer, hey?"

That did it. Chris watched as Padma excused herself from the conversation she'd been having with her friends, and moved over towards the Slytherin table. She approached the Greengrass sisters, and spoke with them in hushed tones. When they were done, Padma returned to the Ravenclaw table, and Chris and Maya watched as the Greengrass sisters stood from the Slytherin table and moved towards the exit - where Draco and Pansy had gone.

Their meals forgotten, Chris and Maya kept their eyes on the exit. Seconds later, a red faced Pansy and an apparently embarrassed Draco marched back into the Great Hall, shortly followed by Daphne and Astoria.

When Maya saw this, she erupted into giggles, grabbed her pumpkin juice, and stood from her seat. "Oi, Malfoy!"

Her call across the Hall turned most of the students' attention towards he and Pansy, but he soon picked her out as the one that had spoken. When the students saw that she had raised her glass, they copied her, even though the great majority of them were incredibly confused as to what she could possibly be toasting. "Cheers ... to celibacy!"

It did not take long for the Hall to realize what had just transpired, for one glance at Draco and Pansy's mortified faces and at the Greengrass sisters told them all that they needed to know. The Hall erupted into laughter, and Maya was soon escorted to the side by Professor Flitwick to be scolded on the subject of keeping such information to herself. When she had returned to her seat, however, whatever Flitwick had said seemed not to have the smallest affect on her.

Draco and Pansy returned to their seats, and attempted to eat their meal in peace. However, similar jeers began to arise from other students, and the Hall would ring with laughter every time. When the students were dismissed from the Great Hall, Chris noticed that Draco and Pansy were the first ones to disappear. She couldn't blame them, for she couldn't even imagine how embarrassing that could have possibly been. She found comfort in the fact that they obviously hadn't been able to break any rules, for if they had, they would not have returned to dinner. On the contrary, there would have been students on the Council dribbling out of the Hall, because Draco and Pansy surely would have had to appear before them for their crime.

When Chris reached the base of the staircase, she found herself greeted once again by someone that she hadn't seen yet that day. "Chris! Oh, I missed you!"

"Hermione!" Chris shrieked in reply as her best friend for the past six years pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "How are you? I heard that you got Headgirl!"

"I did!" she replied as she indicated towards her badge. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to talk to you yet. I never saw you on the train, and then I had to watch over the first years at the feast. Can you _believe_ what that Ravenclaw girl did to Malfoy and Pansy? Despicable-"

"But hilarious," they both said at the same time, and then succumbed to laughter as they followed the crowd towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Password, please?"

As soon as they heard the Fat Lady speak, they fell quiet. The first password of the year was about to be revealed, and they did not want to miss it.

"_Animagus_," one of the Prefects spoke loudly enough for all the Gryffindors to hear.

The Fat Lady smiled, and swung open to reveal the Gryffindor common room. The students poured in as fast as they could, and most headed straight for their dormitories. A few, however, found places in front of the fireplace and commenced to catch up with old friends that they hadn't been able to see all summer. Hermione seemed to want to do this as well, but did not suggest it when she saw that Chris was looking longingly towards the girls' dormitories.

"Tired?" she asked.

"Yes," Chris replied, and moved towards the staircase leading up to where her bed waited for her. "How about you?"

"I might stay down here for a while," Hermione told her with a small smile. "I'll find you in a few minutes, probably."

"All right," Chris bade good-bye to her, and then made her way past the younger girls' dormitories to where hers was, at the very top of the staircase. When she reached it, she found that she was the only seventh year girl that had decided to go to sleep this early in the night.

She discerned where her trunk was, and discovered that her bed was right next to the window. She smiled, for she had never gotten the window bed before. She opened her trunk to find some pajamas, but was distracted as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

She glanced out the window, and was surprised to see that someone sat down against the tree by the lake. She dropped what she was doing, and turned her full attention towards the boy, for she would recognize that head of blonde hair anywhere.

_'What exactly is he doing?' _Chris thought as she watched him. He was alone, and stared out at the lake, as though in thought. She had seen him like this before, but it had been a long time since then. She hadn't seen him alone at school ever since the days when they used to hang out, and she had never known him to be the kind of person that would leave the castle to be on his own. He had always seemed to be the kind of person that needed to have a crowd of people around him at all times.

Chris gasped as she heard the dormitory door open behind her. She picked up her pajamas and took a few steps towards the bathroom as a cover for when Hermione walked in.

"I decided that I _was_ tired," Hermione nonchalantly spoke as she too tried to find her trunk.

Chris managed a smile. "Oh yeah. I was just going to get changed."

She couldn't help but notice that she had spoken the same way that Harry had when he explained to her what had happened between he and Ginny.

Hermione glanced down at her pajamas, but didn't seem as suspicious as Chris had been of Harry. "I see. I'll change when you're done, then, I guess."

Chris nodded, and made a beeline for the bathroom. As she pulled off her school uniform, she continued to wonder what Draco was doing down at the lake at this time at night. She made a mental note to ask him about it later, but then realized that she would not be able to. Now that she was back at Hogwarts, she couldn't be seen talking to him, rules in place or not. She was back in Gryffindor territory, and to stray would lead to questions she didn't want to answer.

Besides, there was no way that Draco would want to talk to her. He wouldn't even want to talk to her in private, away from the other students. No doubt, after what she had said to him at the carriage, after what Maya had put him through during dinner, and _especially _after how their summer together came to an end, he would not even want to _look_ at her.


	17. Aspire To Alienation

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XVII: ASPIRE FOR ALIENATION

-- -- -- -- --

The castle was dark, the ghosts of Hogwarts were nowhere to be seen, and the deafening silence was bordering on eerie. The full moon outside flickered upon Chris' face as she moved from window to window, and she paused only a few times to make sure that she was not being followed. She worried that, as she grew closer to the Entrance Hall, a Professor or Prefect would soon find her sneaking about the castle after curfew. This would not stop her on her way towards the tree by the lake, though, but only delay her. She was determined to reach her goal.

_"Wake up."_

The voice echoed throughout Chris' mind, but she did not care. She reached the marble staircase, and began the descent that would lead her to the double doors, and, soon enough, to Draco.

_"Do you want to miss your first class?"_

She was running now, for daylight was beginning to pour in through the now exposed sky. It was all over; it was slipping away-

Her eyes snapped open, and she was instantly blinded by the sunlight coming in through the window. She covered her eyes, and as they adjusted to the bright new morning, she saw that Hermione stood over her with one hand on her hip and the other clutching her pillow.

Chris groaned as she realized what the day entailed, and rolled over to face the other way. "What time is it?"

"Nearly eight-thirty," Hermione told her. "You need to hurry up, if you want breakfast before your first class."

Chris yawned in reply, and then stretched before sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of her bed. "Fine. I'm up."

"Good," Hermione nodded in approval, and threw her pillow back onto her bed. "Looks like I won't need this today."

Chris did not bother to reply, and took to watching Hermione as she made her way back towards the exit. As soon as she was gone, Chris stood from her bed, grabbed her school uniform off the floor, and then staggered towards the bathroom. She dressed as fast as she could, for her stomach had begun to growl, and she was not sure if she would make it to lunch or not if she was to skip breakfast.

Hermione waited at the bottom of the staircase, and glanced up at the clock above the extinguished fireplace as Chris met her. "Eight thirty-five. You're cutting it pretty close."

Chris grumbled something unintelligible, and bustled past her towards the Fat Lady. Hermione ran to catch up with her, and they began to make their way through the castle and towards the Great Hall.

"Where's Ron?" Chris asked her when she finally noticed their friends' absences. "And Harry?"

"They were at breakfast earlier, but I think that they've gone down to visit Hagrid," Hermione offered her thoughts on the manner. "They don't have a class until this afternoon. I've got Arithmacy at nine-o'clock, and then Potions after lunch. Did _you_ get into Potions? I'd rather not go there alone."

Chris shrugged. Professor Snape was unpredictable at best, and even though she had gotten an E in sixth year Potions that did not mean that she was guaranteed a place in his classroom. She had gotten her school supplies, but, as Snape had mentioned near the end of the last year, seventh year Potions did not have a textbook. This fact had confused her greatly, but she did not ask questions. "I have no idea."

They entered the Great Hall, and were immediately hailed by Professor McGonagall. She bustled across the room towards the two of them with only one piece of parchment left in her hands.

"Looks like we'll soon find out," Chris muttered as McGonagall reached them.

"Your schedule, Ms. Murray," McGonagall stiffly told her. "I would advise that, in the future, you don't wait until the very last moment to make an appearance where you need to be."

"Yes, Professor," Chris replied with an apologetic smile, but only got a displeased glance in reply before McGonagall left the Hall and moved towards her classroom.

Chris and Hermione watched after her, and then commenced to study Chris' schedule when she had disappeared. "Let's see ... History of Magic and Potions today, Transfiguration tomorrow, Charms Wednesday, and Defense Against The Dark Arts on Thursday. Wicked, I get a three day weekend!"

Hermione hummed in thought, and then shook her head. "No, there won't be many three day weekends. Not with _these_ courses. The workload is going to be heavy."

Chris sighed as she realized that Hermione spoke the truth. She'd had no classes on Wednesday last year, and had ended up spending most of that time bent over books in the library. "I suppose. Damn it, I have History of Magic first. I need to go get my book from the dormitory-"

"I'm going back up there for a quick minute to make sure that all the first years know where they're going for their first class," Hermione told her. "I'll get your book for you, but you owe me one."

Chris smiled in gratitude, and then took a step back towards the Gryffindor table. "Thanks! Don't worry, I'll pay you back."

Hermione returned her smile, and then dashed from the Great Hall. Chris plopped herself down at the end of the table, and hurriedly began to shovel scrambled eggs and sausages into her mouth. As though it were a new habit of hers, she glanced hurriedly over at the Slytherin table, and her eyes immediately found Draco. Like her, he sat by himself at the end of his house's table, but there seemed to be something wrong with him. He was nearly falling asleep where he sat, and was sluggishly feeding oatmeal to himself. Chris remembered that he had been down by the lake when _she_ had gone to bed, and she began to wonder just how long he had been there before he too retired for the night.

Chris lost her concentration on Draco as a weight was added onto the bench next to her. She looked over to find that a cheerful Maya had joined her and that Claudia had situated herself on the other side of the table, across from her.

"Mornin'," Maya greeted her through a mouthful of half-chewed muffin. "How's it going?"

"I'm in a bit of a rush, but either than that, I'm doing ok," Chris replied with a shrug. "Actually, I'm feeling a little glum. I don't want to go to class. Not today."

"I know, me neither," Maya relayed to her. "I'm not, anyway. Neither is Claudia."

"You're _skipping_?"

"No," Claudia spoke with the hint of a laugh. "Neither of us have classes until this afternoon."

"Man, you and everybody else," Chris grumbled. "As far as I know, only Hermione and I have somewhere to be at nine o'clock."

"Can I see your schedule?" Claudia asked as she indicated towards the folded piece of parchment before Chris. "We might have some classes together, since we're in the same year."

"Yeah, more than likely," Chris confirmed her thought. "Go right ahead."

Claudia snatched it up, and then hurriedly compared their schedules. "We have Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms together."

"You're not taking Defense Against The Dark Arts?"

She shook her head. "No. Back in Romania, our curriculum is far more advanced than yours here, so I've already learned everything that you would learn in seventh year. My mom told me all about it, and advised that I take that time instead to do homework."

"That's a good idea," Chris told her. "You're going to have a _lot_ of homework."

"Yes, she will," another voice entered the mix. "That's one of my most vivid memories of this castle."

Claudia's face lit up as an older woman dressed in the traditional Professor uniform joined them. Looking back and forth between her and Claudia, Chris could only assume that this was Professor Parasca, the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, and Claudia's mother.

"Hi, mom," Claudia greeted her. "This is Maya, and _this_ is Christina."

Professor Parasca smiled at them, and shook their hands in turn. "It's nice to meet you. I suppose that I will see you two within the classroom at some point?"

"Yup," Maya replied. "I'll be there this afternoon."

"Thursday morning for me," Chris added.

"Wonderful," she grinned, and then glanced up at the clock. "Hey, listen, Christina, could I speak with you for a quick moment, off to the side?"

Chris looked up at the clock as well, to see that it was nearly ten minutes to nine. "If it really _is_ quick. I don't want to be late for my first class."

"You won't be late, I promise," Professor Parasca told her. Chris thought about it for a few seconds, and then excused herself from Maya and Claudia's presence as she followed her.

"You are friends with Harry Potter, no?"

Chris furrowed her brows in confusion as to why a teacher would be inquiring upon this. "Yes. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you knew where I could find him," she replied with a small shrug. "I really need to talk to him about something important, and the sooner I could talk to him, the better."

"Hm," Chris thought about it. "Well, as far as I've been told, he's down visiting Hagrid. Don't take my word for it, though."

"Is his cabin far from here?"

"Few minutes walk," Chris shrugged. "It'd make you late for class, if you're teaching first thing today."

"I am," she slowly nodded as she bit down on her bottom lip in thought. "I guess I'll have to catch him later. Does he have a class this afternoon?"

"Yeah, but I don't know which one."

"All right," Professor Parasca nodded again, and then briefly smiled at her. "I'll have to catch him at lunch or dinner, then, I guess. Thanks."

"No problem," Chris replied as Professor Parasca made a beeline for the Great Hall's exit. She nearly ran into Hermione at the door, who hurriedly apologized before beginning to sprint across the Hall towards Chris.

Her cheeks were tinged pink, and she was out of breath. "Here. I have to go."

She handed Chris her History of Magic textbook, and then sprinted from the Hall. Chris glanced up at the clock once again, and came to the conclusion that she too should be on her way. She grabbed her bag off the table next to Maya and Claudia, and also began towards her first class of the school year. "I'll see you two later?"

"Nah, we could escort you if you like," Maya stood from the bench, and shoved the rest of her muffin into her mouth. "It's not like we have anything better to do."

Chris smiled. "All right, but I've got to move fast."

"What do you have?" Maya took Chris' schedule from Claudia. "History of Magic, huh? _Yawn_."

"Hey, _you_ might find it boring, but _I_ like it," Chris defended her interest in the course's curriculum. "Besides, this year is going to be awesome. We're only covering the past century, and we get to look into Muggle History, since it becomes more important in regards to _our_ World-"

"Still," Maya cut her off. "That sounds quite dull to me."

Chris clicked her tongue, and shook her head. "_This_, coming from the girl who I thought showed an interest in politics-"

"Just in the stuff that concerns me," Maya elaborated. "The rest of it can go take a leap, if you know what I mean."

Chris and Claudia laughed, but they cut it short when someone bumped into Maya, slopping the water he held down the front of her school sweater. "Hey, watch it!"

"Geez, _sorry_," the boy sarcastically replied, and then continued on his way.

Maya shook her head in dislike, and then ran to catch up with Claudia and Chris, who had left her behind. "That Zabini. He walks around here like he _owns_ the freakin' place. It must have something to do with his friendship with Malfoy. Arrogance seems to manifest itself wherever _he_ goes."

"Something seems to be unusual within Slytherin house, though," Chris pointed out as a realization hit her. "I haven't seen Malfoy with Crabbe and Goyle at _all_, this year. Have _you_?"

Maya thought about it for a moment, but then shook her head. "No, I haven't. I saw Crabbe and Goyle, though. They were sitting together on the train - alone - and they were sitting together at dinner too, on the opposite end of the Slytherin table from Malfoy. Do you think they had a fight over the summer, or something? If they did - judging by Malfoy's wounds - Crabbe and Goyle won. Claudia, can I borrow your wand?"

Chris pondered her suggestion as she watched her dry her sweater with Claudia's wand. She knew for a fact that it was not by Crabbe and Goyle that Draco suffered those wounds, but there could still be truth to the words Maya spoke. However, she felt certain that if the three Slytherins had ended their friendship during the holidays, she would have heard about it. "I don't know. It's possible."

"And speaking of ending things," Maya continued on with a glance over her shoulder towards Blaise. "Whatever happened to his girlfriend? I haven't seen _her_ around here either."

"I think that she finished schooling at Hogwarts last year," Chris mused, and then broke into a small smile. "Why are _you_ so concerned?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it sure as hell isn't what _you're_ thinking," she retorted as they reached Binns' classroom. "Well, good luck. Don't fall asleep, or anything."

"I'll try my best not to," Chris winked at her, and then waved good-bye to she and Claudia before entering the room.

She found that, since she had arrived with mere seconds before the bell was to go, there was only one place left for her to sit. At the back of the room, closest to the door, sat two unoccupied desks. She took one, and relished in the fact that she was lucky enough to obtain extra desk and elbow room from its adjoining neighbor.

As soon as she had sat down in her seat, the bell rang, and the students' eyes all wandered forward to the chalkboard. The only exciting thing in History of Magic class was the fact that Professor Binns, the only phantom teacher, materialized through the board upon his arrival. After that, however, his monotonous voice would begin to plummet them with historical fact upon historical fact until, once again, the bell rang.

"Good morning, and welcome to seventh year History of Magic," Binns mournfully spoke as he appeared before them. "We will begin with roll call, and then we will start the course. On your desks, you will find a piece of parchment outlining the content we will cover in this class, and I would advise that you become familiar with it. Amelia Bones?"

"Present."

As Binns slowly made his way down the class list, Chris took to studying the course outline. Her eyes skimmed the first half of the page, and she found what she was looking for near the middle of the twentieth century: the defeat of Grindelwald and, though the outline did not mention it, the mysterious disappearance of Tom Riddle. Chris wondered if Binns had taken the Dark Lord into consideration when he had labeled this section of the course 'The Rise Of Dictators'. Of course, there had also been plenty of Muggle dictators around this time, as well. The Dark Lord had attended Hogwarts during the time that the Muggles were fighting their second World War. She did not know their names, but she knew that there had been plenty of totalitarian rulers in that period of history.

"Christina Murray?"

"Present," she replied as she looked up from her sheet. Binns checked off her name, and then commenced to read aloud the names of her remaining classmates. She placed her outline off to the side, and then reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a new bottle of fresh ink. Professor Binns took his course matter very seriously. As soon as he was finished roll call, he would surely pick up his textbook and begin his slow lecture. He would not allow for a brief pause in which to make sure that everyone was ready for it.

"Dean Thomas?"

"Present."

"Everyone is here, so let's begin our class for today," Professor Binns spoke to the class as he put his attendance sheet in the top left drawer of his desk and took up his textbook. "Turn to page five, where you will follow along as I read - how can I help you, Mr. Malfoy? Are you lost?"

Every head in the class turned to face the back of the room after Professor Binns' address. Sure enough, Draco stood in the doorway, a History of Magic textbook tucked under his arm and a quill in his free hand. "I just transferred in."

Binns stared at Draco, and he was not the only one. A few of the students, whom Chris recognized as those who had sat near him in class the year before, broke out into harsh whispers.

"May I speak with you in the hallway, Mr. Malfoy?" Binns finally spoke as he dropped his textbook back onto his desk. Chris wondered if she was the only one who had noticed the slight tremble of annoyance and anger in his voice.

Binns floated through the room and towards where Draco stood, and then beckoned him to follow as he passed. As soon as they had disappeared from sight, the rest of the class broke out into angry conversation. Chris, however, strained her ears through the pandemonium in an attempt to hear the words exchanged between Draco and Professor Binns. However, it was not possible. She had to come to the conclusion that Draco had somehow managed to convince Binns that he would behave much better than he had the previous year, for when they returned, Binns appeared drastically less angry than he had obviously been when he had written the comment on Draco's report.

"Find a seat quickly, Mr. Malfoy, for we had already begun class when you arrived," Binns told him before picking his textbook back up. "Page five, everyone..."

"Move your bag," Draco's voice came as a hiss.

Chris looked up at him, and then down at her school bag, which she had put on the chair of the unoccupied desk next to her. "You're not sitting here."

"Where else am I going to sit?" he gestured to the rest of the class. "There are no other desks. _Move your bag_."

Chris stared at him in annoyance, but knew that it was not worth pursuing. Professor Binns had begun to read, and she needed to pay attention if she didn't want to miss anything. It was best to let Draco sit next to her today, and hope that next Monday he would find somewhere else to sit, and someone else to bother.

Without a word to him, she grabbed her bag and placed it on the floor next to her feet. She tried her best to listen to what Professor Binns was saying at the front of the room, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched Draco as he situated himself. He opened his textbook, got out some parchment, and began to jot down notes as Professor Binns went along with his lesson.

What was this new behavior? Not only was she now confused about his decision to reenroll in History of Magic, but also as to why he was actually doing his work and not fooling around, like he had done before.

In her astonishment, she did not realize that she had taken to staring. He did, though. "What?"

She broke out of her sudden trance at his harsh whisper, and turned her attention back towards the front of the class. "Nothing."

She tried her hardest not to look at him again, but she found herself sneaking glances in his direction whenever Binns paused to turn the page or tell the class of something that had influenced the events of which he told them about. She could not help but notice that Draco appeared to be getting more out of the lesson that she was, for he had quite a few more notes down than she did whenever she did a quick comparison. She did not know if this difference was because Draco was actually applying himself, if it was because of her distraction, or both.

As the class wore on, Chris found herself shrinking further and further into herself as Draco's free left elbow slowly took up more and more room. To counter him, she finally put her right elbow at the edge of her desk, and refused to move it when his elbow finally reached hers. For a moment, Draco did nothing, and Chris began to wonder if he had intended for this to happen. It seemed not to be true, though, for it was not long before he had taken his elbow off the desk and instead laid his unused arm across his lap.

The bell signaling the end of class rang, startling Chris. She had not thought that it was anywhere near the end of the period, but after looking up at the clock, she realized that it was eleven-thirty: lunch time. After coming to the conclusion that she had become lost in the course and her frequent glances at Draco, she hurriedly wrote down the homework for class on the corner of her parchment, and then busied herself with gathering up her things. Draco was quicker than her, and departed from the room without a single word or sound towards her - not that she was expecting it. She just wished that she could catch him on his own and speak with him; maybe try to explain why it was exactly that their summer together ended the way that it had.

She couldn't even explain it to herself, though. Maybe if she had taken the time to hear him out, instead of reacting the way she had (now quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of her life) things would have turned out differently. She would have found a less drastic way to back out of the arranged marriage, and would have somehow managed to forge a mutual peace between them-

"Hey, how was History?" Hermione greeted her as they moved through the crowd. "Arithmacy was great! Professor Vector gave us a quiz on everything we had learned last year, and I got everything right! Though, I _was_ partially confused on one question..."

"It wasn't as good as I thought it was going to be," Chris shrugged as she came out of her thoughts. "It could have been better, but I was distracted. You wouldn't have _believed _who showed up for class! _Malfoy_!"

"For History of Magic?" Hermione asked for confirmation. "Just so I know we're on the same page."

"Yes, for History of Magic!"

Hermione frowned in confusion. "But, didn't he-?"

"-Talk all year and do absolutely nothing? Yeah, he did," she shook her head. "I can't believe that he would want to come back, and that he was even _allowed_ to. I guess that the course material from sixth year isn't intricately connected to seventh year material, because I'm fairly sure that he failed last year-"

"Oh, that's nice of you," a cold voice came from beside her. "Telling your little Mudblood friend about my academic struggles?"

"Struggles my _ass_, Malfoy," Chris muttered through her teeth after he had disappeared in the crowd ahead of them.

"Just ignore him," Hermione advised her. " You'd be better off not listening to a single word he says. I don't, anymore."

"Yeah, I know," Chris mumbled as they arrived at the Great Hall. "Let's drop it. Come on, there are Maya and Claudia. Let's sit with them. I should introduce you to Claudia, at least. She's in Potions class with us this afternoon."

"All right, that sounds fair. I don't know how long I'll be able to stay with you, though. I have plans with Ron."

"No problem," she replied before they reached the two Ravenclaws. "Hey guys, how was your morning?"

"Fantastic," Maya replied with a wide grin. "We witnessed the _best_ fight between Zabini and Flint."

"Really? What about?" Chris further inquired.

"Something about the Council," she began to speak in a quieter voice. "From as far as we can gather, Flint asked Zabini to join it. Zabini told him to leave him alone using some - er - _choice_ words, and then it got violent."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked.

"Well, it looked as though they had been talking for some time before that point," Claudia shrugged. "It may have been building up to what it became when we got there."

Chris' mind left the conversation as a lead weight began to develop in her abdomen. She furrowed her brows in confusion, for she did not know what had caused it. She stepped away from the table, and looked across the Hall towards the Slytherin table, scanning its occupants. She saw Draco, sitting alone once again, but this did not delay her. As far as she could see, Blaise Zabini had not showed for lunch, and that was not a good sign.

"Hello, Chris?" Hermione placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you with us?"

"Do you see him?" she asked, pointing at the Slytherin table.

"Who?"

"Zabini," she replied. "He's not there. Do _you_ see him?"

Hermione stared at her. "What does it matter?"

"He's not there."

"He got detention from Flitwick," Maya told her. "He broke up the fight, and told Zabini and Flint to come see him during lunch. Don't worry about it. Nothing's happened to him."

Chris looked over at her. "You're sure?"

"Dead sure," Maya gave her an absolute nod. "I saw it all go down myself. Claudia, they got detention, right?"

"Yes, they did," Claudia confirmed Maya's statement.

Chris continued to stare at the Slytherin table, for she was not completely consoled. "That doesn't mean that something's not going to happen to him later on."

Hermione, Claudia, and Maya were silent. She was right.

"Well, what are _you_ going to do about it?" Maya asked her. "It's not like you could just follow Zabini around all day and keep him safe from Flint and his cronies."

"No, I know that," Chris nodded her head in agreement. "But I _do_ know something that I can do."

"What's she up to?" Maya furrowed her brows as she watched Chris make her way towards the Slytherin table. "Why does she care so much about a _Slytherin_? I mean, come on. If Zabini gets beat up because he spoke down to Flint, then that's his own problem."

Chris made a beeline across the Hall, heading towards that lone soul at the end of the table. She began to feel nervous about speaking to Draco, but hurriedly brushed it aside. She knew that the awful feeling in her gut would not go away until she warned _somebody_ about what was going to happen to Zabini. How she was so sure that he was in danger, she did not know, but she would not ignore the issue, or play it off.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she hurriedly spoke as she reached where Draco sat. He gazed up at her, and then scowled at his neighbor, who lightly elbowed him in the arm with a small smirk that Chris could only fathom as something suggestive in manner.

"Can't you see that I'm eating?"

Chris stared at him in disbelief, and then sneered at the surrounding Slytherins, who began to chuckle at what they thought was her humiliation. She would not allow for him to embarrass her, however, and it was not with great courage that she seized him by the upper arm and physically pulled him from his seat. "Get up, _now_."

Draco wrenched himself out of her grip, and sneered at her as he took a step back. "What's your problem, Murray? Have you lost your mind? Leave me alone."

She crossed her arms as he resumed his seat at the Slytherin table, amidst numerous cackling housemates. "Fine, but if one of your friends gets hurt, don't say that I didn't try to warn you."

Chris had hoped that this would pique his curiosity, but he only waved her off. "All right; I won't."

The Slytherins laughed again, and Chris took this as her time to depart. She did not feel embarrassed though, but furious. Who did Draco think he was, putting his personal feelings towards her before his best friend? She came to the conclusion that he would soon realize what she had been trying to tell him, and _then_ he would be sorry-

"Oh, there's Ron," Hermione spoke as Chris rejoined she, Maya, and Claudia.

"Well, before you go, maybe I'll just introduce you to-"

"No worries, I already introduced myself," she smiled briefly before running off towards the Hall's exit, where Ron stood. Chris looked around for any sign of Harry, but found that he was obviously not making an appearance for lunch.

"What was _that_ about?" Maya asked Chris as she took a seat next to her at the Ravenclaw table. "What'd you say to Malfoy? What'd he say to _you_?"

"I tried to tell him that Zabini might be in harm's way, but he didn't want to hear me out," Chris shrugged apathetically. The anxiety that she had felt had been eclipsed by annoyance with Draco. "Oh, well."

"'Oh, well' is right," Maya gave her a sturdy nod. "Leave the Slytherins alone. They would _never_ return the favor if someone from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff was in trouble. Let it be a lesson for them, even though they probably won't learn one."

"You never know," Chris slowly shrugged as a thought came to her. "Listen, I'm just going to run up to my dormitory and grab some stuff for Potions class. I only had enough parchment for History of Magic."

"All right," Maya spoke to her back.

As Chris reached the exit, she glanced back at Maya. How could someone be _so_ bitter towards members of the Slytherin house? Chris could understand her resentment towards Draco - she herself had felt it in her first and second year - but to hate someone so much because of their house affiliation to not care if they got seriously hurt? There had to be something deeper beneath the surface, but what? What could possibly motivate that much hatred within someone?

It just didn't seem right to ask Maya for answers to these questions, yet. Chris reasoned that, whatever it was, it had to be something very personal to her. She believed that Maya would reveal herself in due time. She couldn't keep something like that to herself for long, whatever it was.

Chris paused as she heard the rapid patter of footsteps coming from around the corner ahead. She realized that, in her thought, she had not wandered towards Gryffindor Tower, but instead towards Professor Flitwick's classroom. Curious as to what was going on before her, she peeked her head around the corner.

Zabini was walking as quickly and quietly as he could towards where she stood, and kept a nearly continuous gaze over his shoulder. Chris exhibited this strange behavior, and stepped out from where she hid as he moved closer. His attention finally moved from where he had already been to where he was going, and when he saw Chris standing there before him, he jumped back in alarm.

"How long have you been standing there?" he hurriedly asked as he overcame his brief distress.

Chris noticed that his eyes darted back and forth, and that he had broken into a slight sweat. "Not long. Are you all right?"

"Never better," he spoke in a disembodied voice as he brushed past her.

Chris turned to watch him walk away, and realized that he hadn't even registered whom it was that he had been speaking with. He had been so relieved that it was not a member of the Council that he hadn't even comprehended the fact that he had encountered a Gryffindor in his post-detention wanderings.

She began to move back towards the Great Hall, for there was nothing more that she could do here. She had nothing to go to her dormitory for, she had no more thoughts to preoccupy herself with, and she had found that Zabini was all right - not in the strictest sense, but he was still well. A little emotionally tormented, it seemed, but physically unharmed.

"That didn't take you long," Maya commented as Chris returned to the Ravenclaw table.

Chris shrugged in reply, and began to help herself to the various fresh fruit that had been laid out for the student. "Did your mom find Harry yet?"

Claudia glanced up at the Professor Table, and saw that her mother sat there in conversation with Professor Trelawney. "I doubt it. She would probably be in the owlery, if she had."

"Doing what, writing a letter?" Chris furrowed her brow in confusion. "Who would she be writing?"

Claudia averted her gaze, and mumbled something in what Chris thought was her native language before completely falling silent. Chris recognized this behavior and knew that Claudia realized she had revealed something that she was supposed to keep to herself.

Chris and Maya exchanged a confused glance before Chris decided to break the now awkward silence between them. "Did Zabini show up for lunch yet?"

Maya shook her head. "No. Why?"

"I met him in the hallway," Chris replied. "He seemed pretty distraught."

"So?"

"So he either knows that he's in trouble, or has been threatened," Chris wrung her hands in annoyance. "You don't seem to understand what I'm telling you-"

"I understand," Maya countered her. "I just don't think that there's anything we can possibly do to intervene. I mean, come on, you already tried to warn Malfoy, and where did that get you? The Slytherins are too proud for their own good, Chris. Just ... let it be."

Chris stared at her in disbelief. "You don't think that we should do anything about this?"

Maya seemed to think about it, but then shrugged. "I don't know what we _could_ do. You can't tell a Professor, we don't even know where Zabini is right now ... you could try talking to Malfoy again, but I doubt that would get you anywhere-"

"I don't believe I'm hearing this," Chris told her. "Yesterday you sounded as though you wanted to get rid of the Council, and now you won't do _anything_ to stop them."

She didn't wait for Maya to reply before she got out of her seat and marched away towards the dungeons. She couldn't believe it, but she was actually going to Potions class early.

She reached Snape's dungeon to find that the door was open, but the room was apparently unoccupied. She poked her head hesitantly in the doorway, and then slowly entered, for she was not able to shake off the feeling that she was invading someone's private place. "Professor Snape?"

There was a flicker of motion near the storage cupboards at the back of the classroom. "Yes?"

"I - I was just wondering if it was all right if I came in early," she stammered as a sudden chill from the icy feel of Snape's room crawled up her spine.

Snape studied her for a moment, and then nodded curtly before going back to what he was doing at the cupboards. Chris took a seat near the middle of the room, and then took to discretely watching Professor Snape study the cupboard's contents over her shoulder. He spoke to himself under her breath, and Chris reasoned that he was making sure the seventh years were in possession of what they would need for their final year of Potions at Hogwarts.

Chris tore her gaze from the Potions Master as he shut the cupboard and moved towards his desk at the front of the dungeon. He wrote something down on a piece of parchment, and then took a seat as he commenced to study another.

"Eight students this year," he muttered to himself. "Pitiful."

Chris began to watch the clock as she wondered who else would be joining she, Claudia, and Hermione in a few minute's time. She was not sure who else in their year was good or at least lucky enough to obtain Snape's approval.

The bell signaling the beginning of afternoon classes finally rang, and Chris turned her attention towards the door as she watched for potential classmates. She could have assumed that the first person to enter the dungeon would be in seventh year Potions, for he never seemed to have a problem gaining consent from the head of his own house. As Draco glanced over at her, her gaze fell down to her desk, and it was only after he had taken a seat on the far side of the classroom from the door that she took to watching once again for her classmates.

Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff followed Draco by a few minutes, and took a seat at the front of the room. He was followed by Michael Corner and Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, and then Hermione and Claudia.

Chris greeted them with a smile, and gestured them over. "We have a small class, apparently."

Hermione looked around at the other few people, and then nodded. "I would say so."

"Snape mentioned that there were only eight of us," Chris told her in confirmation. "Seven ... who's the last one?"

"Dunno," Hermione shrugged. "I guess we'll find out in a few minutes. What's Malfoy doing here? I thought he was _awful_ at Potions."

"I guess he's all right," Claudia offered her input. "I mean, he wouldn't be here if he wasn't, wouldn't he?"

Hermione studied Claudia with a small smile. "Tell me, are you familiar with the concept of the teacher's pet?"

Claudia began to giggle, but it was short-lived as Snape shut the dungeon door with a slam - the sign that class had begun. "As I am sure you are all aware, this is seventh year Potions. If you look around at your fellow classmates, you will see that there are only eight of you here, which is an indication towards how many people I thought would be successful in this course."

Chris looked around at whom the eighth person was, but there were still only seven present by her count. It seemed to the others that they realized this as well, but she knew that nobody would bring it up.

"Seventh year Potions is fundamentally different than its predecessors," Snape continued to speak in his slow, quiet, voice as he moved about the classroom. "A new program was installed approximately three years ago for students taking the NEWT exam, and, though controversial at first, it has proven itself very successful in teaching students in your year the mindset required to pursue Potions beyond this level of your education.

"The Higher Principle Potions Program - the HPPP - is designed with the intention to move you from your previously taught practice of following instructions to a place where you will feel comfortable with potions at their most basic level," Professor Snape reached his desk again and leaned over it as he looked down upon his students. "Therefore, in this course, you will not be directly told what to learn and how to obtain that goal, but you will be taught how to think and how to reach that goal without any required assistance. Are there any questions?"

No one within the dungeon spoke or raised their hand.

"Good. Now, those of you who remember my mention at the end of last year that there will be no textbook in seventh year Potions should understand why," he carried on. "This program cannot be found in a book, or, if it _was_ in a book, followed in a conventional way. I trust that you all still have possession of your textbooks from first to sixth year?"

Terry Boot timidly stuck his hand in the air. "What if we don't have them here, at Hogwarts?"

"Then I would suggest that you write home and ask for them to be sent," Snape replied before moving around his desk and beginning to pace up and down the aisles separating the rows of desks. "The HPPP is an incredibly simple program - not simple in what it requires to complete it - but a very simple one in regards to philosophy. The instructions are very straightforward, but before I begin to dwell upon it, I will assign your partners-"

A hefty glower over the students was enough to stifle the groan that arose from the students. "I do not play favorites, and the partner assignments will be alphabetical. I would suggest that you quickly get to know your partner, for they will work with you until the end of this course."

There was no universal groan at this proclamation, but Chris could see that not a single person was satisfied with the way that Snape had decided upon partners. Snape watched them for another moment, waiting for someone to oppose him, but when it seemed that everyone had accepted these conditions, he picked up the piece of parchment that he had been studying earlier. "When I speak your name, find your assigned partner and await further instruction. Terry Boot and Michael Corner, you are group one."

The two Ravenclaw boys had already been sitting next to one another, and no longer seemed upset by Snape's decision to partner alphabetically.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hermione Granger," Snape read the next pair of names on his attendance sheet.

"Well, see you later," Hermione whispered to Claudia and Chris as she stood from her seat between them and moved ahead a few rows to sit with Justin.

The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Snape's mouth. "Draco Malfoy and Christina Murray."

Chris had anticipated being partnered with Claudia, but she could deal with this. Though she would never admit it aloud, she was actually quite content to be partnered with Draco. It meant that Draco would no longer be able to avoid or ignore her - at least, not for two and a half hours out of the week. Without a word, she stood from her seat and moved her things over to where Draco had situated himself. She left a desk between them and sat down at the opposite end of the row that he had claimed at the beginning of class. He seemed to pretend that he had not heard whom Snape had assigned as his partner, but Chris could see him sneering at her out of the corner of his eye.

"And, our last group, Claudia Parasca and Blaise Zabini," Snape spoke, and then looked around the room. "Hm, It would seem that Mr. Zabini has not bothered to show up for class."

Claudia nodded, and as soon as Snape's gaze had left her, she glanced over at Chris. Chris stared back at her, for the same question was on her mind: why hadn't he shown up for class? Did it have something to do with his earlier encounter with Flint?

Chris broke eye contact with Claudia and instead looked over at Draco. He seemed to be putting two and two together in regards to Blaise's strange disappearance and Chris' earlier attempt to warn him about a friend's wellbeing. However, even though he had reached this conclusion, his feelings of resentment towards Chris ensured that he would not ask her if this was what she had been trying to speak with him about.

"Now that we are all settled in, I will explain what you will be doing this year," Snape began to speak again. "As I have already stated, this program has a fairly simple concept. You have one project this year, and that is, from scratch, you are to discover how a particular potion is composed. You will choose your group's potion in a random draw."

Snape opened one of his desk drawers and brought out a small stack of immaculate parchment, cut down to shape and stamped with the Ministry's Seal of Education. He moved around the four groups, handing them each a piece of the parchment. Chris took the one that Snape placed between she and Draco, and studied it.

"Professor, there's nothing on it," she pointed out.

"I know, Ms. Murray," Snape monotonously replied. "If you would be so kind as to wait a minute, I will explain the next step."

She bit her bottom lip to refrain from replying, but still managed to send a dirty look at her Potions partner when he released a small snigger. "Something funny to you?"

Draco continued to smirk as he stared ahead at the board, but did not reply. Chris released a huff of annoyance and slid down in her seat. "This is going to be a _long_ year."

For a split second, she thought that Draco would reply this time, and looked over at him. His lips were slightly agape, but when he saw that her gaze was stuck on him, he clenched them shut.

"Now that you have your draw parchment, you and your partner must place the tips of both your wands on it," Snape instructed them as he put the remaining parchment back into his desk. "In a few second's time, your assignment will appear."

Chris withdrew her wand, and did as she was told. Draco did the same, and they watched with impatience as nothing appeared on their paper. Everyone else seemed to be receiving theirs, but, for some reason, the one that Snape had provided them was not doing what it was supposed to.

"Nothing's happening, Professor," Draco spoke up.

"Give it time," Snape lazily replied from his chair.

"There, something appeared," Chris pointed out, and then snatched it up. She waited for the swirling ink that had appeared to situate itself and become legible terminology before her shoulders fell and she read aloud what had appeared. "'The Wolfsbane Potion'."

Draco grunted in disinterest, folded his arms, and turned his head towards the wall.

The hand holding the parchment fell limply onto Chris' lap as she emitted a heavy sigh. "It's time to swallow what's left of your pride, Malfoy. Let's get started."

Her words washed over him, but he continued to ignore her. Chris stared at him, and decided that it was time to employ the method that she preferred in approaching him. Now that she had him on his own with no one in the absolute near vicinity to overhear, she dropped her voice. "Draco, talk to me."

His eyes darted in her direction and he seemed to consider it for a brief second, but then his frown grew more harrowed and he took to staring at his desktop, instead.

She spoke in less than a whisper when she found that he was not going to reply. "Please."

Chris' gaze left him as Professor Snape approached them. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Malfoy?"

"You've never alphabetized before," Draco spoke right away in response to Snape's question. "People older than me who have taken this course have told me about it. You _never_ alphabetize."

Chris remained confused as to what Draco was getting at, but Snape seemed to understand completely. "Orders are orders, Mr. Malfoy."

"Whose orders?"

He lowered his voice low enough for only he and Chris to hear. "Whose do you think?"

And with that, he was gone.

Draco took to studying his desk again, a deep sneer now prevalent on his face, and Chris resumed to stare at him, waiting for answers. "What are you talking about? Our _parents_ organized this? Is that what you were getting at?"

Draco did not reply, but instead hurriedly glanced over at her. Chris reasoned that this was his new way to tell her that she was right. "They don't have enough jurisdiction over Snape to order this, Draco. _You_ think that they went to the Dark Lord and asked for this."

Instead of allowing her a simple glance, his gaze remained fixed on her for an astounding three seconds. Chris realized how pathetic she was being in this situation when she had actually taken to counting how long he looked at her.

She sighed again when Draco's eyes returned to their former pursuit of boring a hole into his desk. "Why won't you talk to me? I'm sorry, all right? I was drunk - I didn't know what I was doing-"

"I'm not mad about that anymore," he stiffly spoke as the bell finally rang and saved them from their awkwardness.

Through the commotion, in which Draco took to begin gathering his things, Chris continued to speak. "Then I'm sorry about what I said down at the train, and I'm sorry about how Maya embarrassed you at dinner last night. I'm sorry that I didn't move my bag the first time you asked in History of Magic, I'm sorry that I told Hermione you failed it last year, and I'm even sorry that I tried to speak to you at lunch time. Fuck, Draco: what else do you want to hear from me?"

"Nothing at all," he bitterly muttered as he slung his bag over his shoulder and hurriedly moved away from her.

Chris watched him as he left the room, and then slowly turned to her own things. She dully noted that Hermione and Claudia waited for her outside the dungeon, but she couldn't care less. The only friend that she wanted at that point in time was the only one that she couldn't have, and seemed to be the person that hated her most in the world.

"Come up here."

Chris looked up at Professor Snape. He continued to read the document before him, and Chris began to wonder if he had actually spoken and if she wasn't just hearing things until he glanced up at her.

She finished gathering her stuff, and then approached his desk.

"Mr. Malfoy was right, as I am sure you realized," he dully spoke without looking up from the paper on which his eyes remained fixated at one spot.

"And why are you telling me this?"

Snape paused before speaking again. "Your parents still have hope."

"Just mine, or the Malfoys, as well?"

"The Malfoys, too."

"Well, you can tell them that I'm trying," she whispered in an uncouth voice before making her way towards the exit.

"You know what you have to do, if that is the route you wish to take."

Chris stopped and whirled around to face the Potion's Master. "And what do you mean by that?"

"It is entirely up to you, if you wish for your previous arrangements to return as they were," Snape finally looked up at her.

"I don't want to sound out of line, saying this as a student to a teacher," Chris spoke through her teeth. "But I would _really_ appreciate it if you would stay out of my private affairs, _Snape_. Death Eater, or not."

With that, she left his dungeon. She felt no better after releasing a small portion of her newfound anger on Professor Snape, and she groaned inwardly as she hastily thought that, the next time she saw the House Points in the Great Hall, there would be somewhere between fifteen and fifty points less for the Gryffindor house.

_'What a great day,'_ she frowned as she thought. _'What a great, fucking day-'_

"You seem tense," the voice that she now seemed to dread came, accompanied with an arm around her waist and a tender kiss on her cheek. "Bad day?"

She scoffed and forced herself to turn and face Harry in the corridor. "Like you would not _believe_."

Though she did not feel in the mood to be with Harry at all or, in fact, anyone, she couldn't help but feel some of her burdens alleviate as she allowed for him to kiss her. It felt good to think that _someone_ of the opposite sex still felt something towards her.

"Well, tell me about your day," Harry requested as they broke apart. "What made it so bad?"

"Nothing, really," Chris lied as she shook her head. "It was just long."

Harry smiled at her, and then took her free hand in his. "I see. Do you have homework?"

"History of Magic."

"I have Herbology homework," he stated with a small laugh. "I know it doesn't sound too appealing, but do you want to work together after dinner?"

Chris glanced over at him, and then joined in as he continued to laugh. "It's a date. My, _you're_ in a good mood. What was wrong with you last night, anyway?"

He waved it off. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Hey, what are you doing _before_ dinner?"

She shrugged, and then raised an eyebrow at him. "Why, what did you have in mind?"

He shrugged as well, but it was in a more playful manner. "Come on."

She had not been aware of it, but as they had talked, he had already led her as far as a corridor that she definitely recognized. Though the thought of releasing some pent up anger appealed to her, she knew that she could not go through with what Harry had planned for them.

"Er, listen, Harry," she spoke as he began to pace back and forth before a blank space on the wall. "I'm not too sure about this."

He furrowed his brows slightly in confusion as he came to a slow stop. "How come?"

"It's just - I've had a long day, and this is the last thing that I want to do right now," she tried to explain her disinterest in a way that he would understand. "I'm just not in the mood for it."

She expected him to be displeased with this proclamation, so she was incredibly surprised when he only grinned and approached her again. "Right. Sorry about that."

She forced a small smile as they began to move towards Gryffindor Tower. "It's all right. Hey, have you seen Hermione around? She was waiting for me after Potions, but then she just kind of disappeared."

Harry awkwardly cleared his throat, but commenced to smile. It seemed to her that he was faking it now, though. "She's with Ginny, I think."

"How come?"

He shrugged. "She was upset about something after class. I don't know."

Chris stared at him with a critical eye. He felt her gaze on him, and looked up at her. "Why are you looking at me like that? You think that I had something to do with it?"

"Well, it's not a far stretch of the imagination," Chris told him, after reasoning that it was best to be truthful with him if she expected him to return the favor. "I mean, you were fighting on the train with her yesterday, glum all evening, and now you're in an incredibly good mood today while she's down in the dumps."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but stalled. He glanced up at her again, and then shrugged apologetically. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Well, you could start with the truth," she suggested as she slowly came to a stop.

Harry stopped too, and placed a hand on her cheek. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

Chris stared at him in disbelief. How hard was it to just tell her what had happened? She reasoned that it _must_ be something unsavory that he was keeping from her. "Then I guess I have nothing else to say to you."

"Chris, come on," he called after her as she moved down the hallway away from him.

"Just leave me alone," she spoke over her shoulder when he tried to catch up with her. "I don't want to see you again until you're ready to tell me what's going on."

She heard him stop in his tracks, but that did not mean that he was done. "Don't be like this, Chris. I missed you _so_ much summer-"

"-And I hardly thought about you at all," she muttered under her breath as she turned a corner and left his sights.


	18. Final Dissolution

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XVIII: FINAL DISSOLUTION

-- -- -- -- --

"There is still no sign of Mr. Zabini?"

"No, Professor," Snape replied in regards to the subject of which he had been summoned. "Everyone on staff has been looking for him, but to me it appears that he has disappeared. None of the students seem to know anything about it, or, it would seem so, for no one has stepped forward with information."

Dumbledore laced his fingers together on his desktop as his brows furrowed into a thoughtful gaze. "Strange. Of course, student disappearances have happened before in light of Quidditch rivalries, but that cannot be the case here."

Snape shook his head. "No, it's not possible. I've spoken to Draco about this, as well, and he assures me that Blaise did not show any interest in trying out for the Slytherin team this year, either."

"So anything to do with Quidditch is ruled out," Dumbledore hummed as he thought. "Before his disappearance, he was called into detention by Professor Flitwick for fighting with Marcus Flint. Have you spoken to Marcus, yet?"

"Yes, I did right before I came here," Snape nodded. "Marcus told me that he merely asked for Blaise's help in something before they were reduced to their petty fisticuffs."

"And I trust you used Occlumency on him?"

"Naturally," Snape drawled as he sat up straighter in his seat. "Judging by what I saw, I can come to the conclusion that something happened in regards to the two boys and Blaise's ex-girlfriend over the summer. It's typical teenage angst in this particular situation: I think that Sara may have deserted Blaise for Marcus, thus causing some deep hatred between them."

"She _was_ rather close to Marcus while at school," Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "But does that have anything to do with Blaise's disappearance, judging by your insight to Marcus' mind?"

"I could say that it does, but there would still be something missing," Snape replied after a short pause. "If that is the entirety of the situation, it would make more sense to me that _Marcus_ disappeared, instead of Blaise."

"True," Dumbledore replied. "For what, exactly, did Marcus ask for Blaise's help?"

"He didn't tell me."

"But you saw?"

"Yes," Snape gave Dumbledore a resolute nod. "Bits and pieces of it, and, I have to say, Professor, I do believe that this requires your immediate attention."

"Even more so than Mr. Zabini's sudden disappearance?" Dumbledore asked, to which Snape nodded. "All right. What is it that you saw, Severus?"

Snape leaned forward in his chair. "Marcus possesses a vendetta against a specific group of girls."

Dumbledore furrowed his brows as he stared at Snape. "Why?"

"I did not see a reason for it ... at first," Snape told him. "But I dug deeper. It would seem that something that started off as a joke turned into something far more - something that we were never supposed to know about."

"'We'?"

"The staff," Snape clarified. "There is a group of students, Dumbledore, who once held positions on a Student's Council."

"Student's Council?" Dumbledore replied in confusion. "_Again_? This is the first time that _I've_ heard about a new one."

"As was to be intended," Snape continued on. "It existed for a few years, but then fizzled out sometime around last December. I do not know the nature of this Council, but it is apparently fit to explain any random act of violence leading from the spring of 1994 up until its dissolution."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Snape. He had always considered the fact that he had not found base for that period of violence a colossal failure as Headmaster of the school. "If this group no longer exists, though, then why must we speak of it? Do you know who was ultimately responsible for harming the other students?"

"No, I don't know that," Snape admitted. "But it all comes back to this group of girls that Marcus seems to dislike. Judging by Marcus' mind, I think that when the Council self-terminated, these girls may have had a hard time letting go."

"Who _are_ these girls?"

"I only know of one name, of whose face I saw in Marcus' mind," Snape answered him. "Daphne Greengrass."

Dumbledore leaned forward onto his desk, and slowly nodded as he digested this information. "Well, we're about to find out the rest. Will you fetch her, please, and bring her to my office?"

Snape stood from his chair, gave Dumbledore a short bow, and then left his office in order to fulfill the Headmaster's wish. Dumbledore listened to the fading sound of Snape's footsteps, and then sighed in disappointment as his thoughts returned to this Council. He had often wondered if the students had once again formed some sort of organization beneath his nose, but he did not think that it would have led to the random acts of violence that the students of his school had suffered during that period of time. There had been groups in the past, yes, but none that condoned such undesirable behavior. He could not help but wonder why his own student body would force something so dire upon themselves.

A knock came at his office door, and he invited his visitors in. As he was certain it would be, Snape reentered with a timid Daphne Greengrass in his wake. Though usually inherent of a confident nature, she was now pale, as though she already knew what this meeting would be about.

"Before you take a seat, Daphne, I would like a list of names," Dumbledore addressed her as she moved towards the chair in which the Potions Master had sat a few minutes previous to her arrival.

She swallowed nervously, and glanced up at Professor Snape. "N-names?"

"Yes," Dumbledore slowly nodded. "Of the other girls that form this group with you; this Student's Council."

"There _is_ no Council, Professor," she hurriedly spoke, taking a step forward. "There hasn't been since-"

"-Christmas, we know," Dumbledore cut her off. "Who are the other girls that maintain this defunct organization with you?"

She looked up at Professor Snape again before sighing. She opened her mouth to reply, but then snapped it shut.

"Tell the Headmaster, Ms. Greengrass," Snape pushed her on.

She stared at Dumbledore, and then nervously ran a hand through her hair. "Nothing bad has happened ever since the Council ended. It wasn't us - we didn't do anything to anyone. The students - the majority - understand that the Council is gone. Some chose to continue believing it was there, and that's not _our_ fault-"

"Names, please," Dumbledore calmly cut her off.

She gaped like a fish out of water, and then complied with a nod and sigh. "Astoria, Susan and Hannah from Hufflepuff, Marietta and Padma from Ravenclaw, and Parvati and Lavender from Gryffindor."

Dumbledore nodded, and then turned to Snape. "Would you please find Minerva, Filius, and Pomona, and ask them to bring the students mentioned along with them here?"

Once again, Snape left Dumbledore's office. As though she finally realized what she and her cohorts were in for, Daphne began to shake slightly in fear. She had never been in trouble before.

Dumbledore picked his wand up from his desk, and gave it a quick wave. Seven more chairs appeared next to the one that Snape had once inhabited. "Take a seat, Daphne. Before the others arrive, I would like to ask you a few questions."

She nodded jerkily, and hesitantly made her way towards the row of chairs, taking a seat on the one furthest up the row and nearest the window. "I'm sorry, Professor. We were going to stop soon - honestly. It - it was just a joke-"

"I wish that I could believe you, Daphne," Dumbledore replied with a small smile and a dull twinkle in his eye. "But I am more inclined to suspect that, if you and your friends hadn't been caught, you would have carried on with this charade. How did it come to be in the event of the Council's end, this group of girls of which you are a member?"

Daphne's eyes began to well with tears. Now that she and her cohorts had been discovered, she really _did_ regret all that they had done, or, at least, tried to do. "We - we were in the Council before it ended, and _after_ ... we decided that we would see how far we could take it."

"How far you could take it?" Dumbledore repeated in a soft, inquisitive voice. "What do you mean by that?"

"We wanted to see how much influence we could have over the students, if they didn't believe that we were gone," she tried to explain. "Of course, Council members told the students that there was no more Council, but some didn't believe them when they saw that _we_ were still doing what we had always done. We tried to see just how gullible the students were. We made up ridiculous rules, but they _still_ fell for it. Then, we just decided that - that if we _had_ that much power, we might as well try and hold onto it. It's stupid, I know, but it's true-"

"So, there wasn't any rational thought behind these decisions or actions on you or your friends' part?" Dumbledore asked, gazing at her over the top of his glasses.

Daphne spoke with a small sob. "I'm so sorry, Professor."

Dumbledore disregarded her apology. "Stay focused, Daphne. What is the connection, if any, between you girls and Marcus Flint?"

"Marcus?" Daphne repeated. "He was the leader of the Council when it ended. It was his decision to stop it."

"And what about Blaise Zabini?"

Daphne furrowed her brows. "Nothing, really. Well, it had been Astoria that found out first about Marcus and Sara - you know, Blaise's ex-girlfriend. She told Blaise about it, but either than that, I don't know. Or, well, Blaise and I, we - we dated a bit a few years ago."

"Do you know anything about Blaise's disappearance?"

"Only as much as the rest of the students do," she shrugged. "We know that he was talking to Marcus, and then he didn't show up for his afternoon class."

"_All_ the students know this?"

"Yes."

"And why has no one come forward with this information?"

Daphne half-shrugged, but then decided that she should be completely truthful with the Headmaster. "Well, those random acts of violence that used to happen, they - they happened when someone went against the Council's rules. Going to a Professor with anything related to the Council would earn them their - their punishment."

"And how was this event linked to the Council?"

"Everyone seems to think that Marcus is still affiliated with us," Daphne answered Dumbledore's question, referring to the rumor that had recently spread through the castle like wildfire. "No one would dare speak a word, if they thought that those rules still held up."

Dumbledore sighed as a rapid knocking came at his office door again. "Come in."

McGonagall strode into the office, her lips pressed tightly together, and two girls following closely behind her. "What is this, Albus? Severus said that these two needed to see you, accompanied by me-"

"You are the Head of their house, and will be required to issue the penalty for their wrong-doings," Dumbledore hurriedly explained. Parvati and Lavender, though confused at first, hurriedly caught on to what was happening when they saw Daphne sitting before the Headmaster, and with tracks of eyeliner running down her face. "Take a seat, girls."

Parvati and Lavender did, as far away from Daphne as they could. It seemed to Dumbledore that the two Gryffindor girls believed Daphne to have sold them out.

"Do not feel hostile towards Ms. Greengrass," he addressed Parvati and Lavender. "She is here under the same circumstances as you, and no different."

"Where's Astoria, then?" Parvati asked.

"Snape is fetching her, along with the others," Dumbledore answered her question.

Professor Flitwick entered the office next, with Marietta and Padma. He seemed confused as to why he had been summoned to the Headmaster's office, but the two girls were not. They had seen Parvati and Lavender pulled from the Great Hall by McGonagall, and when their Head of house gathered them, they could only assume that their group had been discovered. Their fear was confirmed when they had seen Snape call Astoria from the Slytherin table, and ask her to follow him. Daphne had been nowhere in sight, but her whereabouts were explained when they reached Dumbledore's office.

Astoria entered behind the two Ravenclaw girls, and took a seat next to her sister. "Did you _tell_, Daphne?"

Daphne spoke to her sister in the same whisper. "No, I didn't. They found out on their own."

"Who?"

Daphne shrugged her shoulders. "Dumbledore and Snape, I think."

They did not bother to look up as the final three entered the room - Hannah and Susan, escorted by Professor Sprout. The two Hufflepuffs sat down next to Astoria, and a dead silence descended upon the room's occupants as Professor Sprout shut the door behind her.

Professor McGonagall crossed her arms, and was the first to speak. "So, tell us. Why are we all here?"

"Long story short, while searching for information regarding Mr. Zabini's disappearance, Severus came across something else: a Student's Council," Dumbledore began to explain. "This Council was responsible for the physical harm brought to some of our students a few years ago. When this Council became obsolete last Christmas, these girls here thought that it would be a good idea to try and maintain it."

"It was only a joke," Lavender spoke up under her breath as she hung her head.

"Yes, and a very cruel one at that," Dumbledore replied before turning to Minerva, Severus, Pomona, and Filius. "As the Heads of houses, I leave the four of you to decide upon their punishments, as you see fit. Of course, if you so wish, I will further explain the nature of their crimes, but it will have to wait until later this evening."

Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout exchanged a disappointed glance as they shared their sentiments for the students before them. Like Dumbledore, they could not believe that such a shameless ambition had gone on without their knowledge. They had many questions regarding this Council, but all knew that this was not the time to address it.

"As for you eight, my only request to you is that you cease your activities within this organization you have formed," Dumbledore addressed them. "To be certain that your influence as a group is never extended upon my students again, I will be making an announcement regarding the termination of anything resembling this Student's Council at dinner tomorrow, seeing as how it will be too late to do it tonight-"

"Professor Dumbledore, _please_ don't!" Marietta pleaded. "The students would _never_ talk to us again, if you do - if you tell them that the Council was gone - you know what'll happen to us!"

"Yeah," Hannah agreed with a shaky nod. "They'll want to give us our come-uppance."

Dumbledore thought about what the girls were telling him. The last thing that he wanted was more student-on-student violence within these walls. "All right, then I will leave it to _you_ to tell the students. Do you think that you could all do that?"

The eight of them nodded, surprised at how easy they were getting off with the Headmaster. However, once they reminded themselves of what they would be undergoing with their Heads of house, they did not feel as lucky.

"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled weakly at them. "Very well, I do believe that we are done here. You are all dismissed."

The eight girls stood from their seats before his desk, and left the Headmaster's office with their heads bowed in shame. The Heads of houses waited until they had left, and then advanced towards Dumbledore.

"Any news of Mr. Zabini yet?" Dumbledore asked Professor McGonagall, knowing that her rotation of searching for the missing student had just ended for the day.

"Not yet," she replied. "But once I deal with Ms. Brown and Ms. Patil, I will continue to search the castle."

"And what about Hagrid?" Dumbledore continued on. "Has he seen any sign of Mr. Zabini in the Forbidden Forest?"

The Heads of house exchanged a quick glance, and then collectively shrugged. "We wouldn't know. We haven't talked to him yet this evening. He wasn't at dinner."

Dumbledore considered what Minerva had told him, and then stood from his seat. "I shall pay him a visit, then. Tell me right away, don't forget, if you find him. His mother has been to and from the school twice already in the past twenty-four hours, and her normally kind disposition, I have to tell you, has nearly disappeared."


	19. She Sells Sanctuary

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XIX: SHE SELLS SANCTUARY

-- -- -- -- --

School had only been back in session for four days, and she was already drowning in unfinished homework. Though grateful for the fact that she had Fridays off, Chris was beginning to realize that it would be lost time if she did not find Hermione, and soon.

She had been wandering the castle's corridors all morning, ever since she had decided that it was time to buckle down and finally get some of her assignments completed. Many of them sat unfinished in her dormitory, for she had either grown tired of their content, or had painted herself into a corner. For the sake of those that fell into the latter category, she had decided that she needed to call in some favors.

However, how was she to beg Hermione for her help if she could not find her? Chris believed that she had searched everywhere in the castle that Hermione was expected to be. She wasn't in the Great Hall, in any of the classrooms, or even in the library. Chris couldn't help but feel that she had missed something - perhaps Hermione had decided that instead of hanging around the castle all day, she would head into Hogsmeade on her own or with Ron, now that they were of age and allowed to do such things without concrete permission from the school's administration. After all, Chris had not made plans to ask Hermione for her help, nor had she seen Ron around. As a matter of fact, Chris had hardly spoken to Hermione or seen Ron at _all_ this week.

Chris came to a halt in her search as the midday bell rang, setting off the inevitable lunch hour rush. She sighed to herself as the classroom doors began to open on either side of the corridor, and allowed for the wave of students to push her back towards the Great Hall. Besides, if Hermione was anywhere in the castle at lunchtime, she would be there.

Chris wedged her way out of the crowd and made a beeline towards the Gryffindor table as the students reached their goal. She slowed in approaching it, however, when a quick glance told her all that she needed to know: Hermione had not yet arrived.

Deciding to skip the Gryffindor table for now, she headed towards the Ravenclaw table, where she was now beginning to spend the majority of her meals. However, her ability to enjoy the momentary peace that accompanied these meals was rapidly dwindling, and had been ever since Blaise Zabini's disappearance, it seemed. She thought that sitting at the Gryffindor table was bad enough, having to try and avoid Harry's questioning and penetrating gaze, but if things got much worse with the Ravenclaws, she would be more than happy to move back to her own House's table.

"Good afternoon, ladies," she spoke with a small smile as she sat down next to Claudia.

Claudia returned her greeting, but Maya barely glanced up before going back to playing with her food.

When they were sure that she was not paying attention to either of them, Chris and Claudia exchanged the newest of what had become many confused glances in regards to Maya's suddenly quiet and introverted personality. When Maya had dashed into the toilets the day before, Chris and Claudia had taken the time to minutely discuss what could possibly be weighing down her mind. Only two things had happened that week in the castle that they thought would affect her: the rumor that the Council was now at an end, and the fact that Blaise had disappeared.

After her short conversation with Claudia, Chris had taken the task of discovering the root of Maya's sudden disinterest with her surroundings upon herself. She and Maya had spoken briefly upon the Council's supposed separation, but Maya had perked up ever so slightly during said discussion.

After that, Chris could only assume that Maya's sudden stint of gloominess had something to do with Blaise. Why, though? Maya had shown nothing short of abhorrence towards Blaise, or, any of the Slytherins, for that manner. In Chris' mind, she should have been _delighted_ or, at least, entertained by the notion of a missing Slytherin. So then, why _wasn't_ she?

"Padma tried to talk to me again today," Maya spoke as she finally ended the staring contest between herself and her roast beef.

Surprised that Maya had spoken without being addressed first, Claudia and Chris turned their complete attention towards her. It didn't matter what she had said - for all they cared, she could have just told them that she was considering asking Luna if she wished to elope with her.

"Yeah?"

"What did she say?"

"She tried to sell me some pitch," Maya waved it off along with a contemptible glance down the table in Padma's direction. "She kept assuring me that the Council was completely finished, but I kept reminding her about the _last_ time she had told me that, at sometime around New Year's, I think. She told me that this time she was serious. I almost bought it."

"Almost?" Claudia repeated.

Maya scoffed, and the first smile that Chris had seen on her in a few days, though it was closer to a smirk, manifested itself. "A few minutes later, I found her gossiping with Astoria, you know, from Slytherin."

"They're still friends, then," Chris commented with a resolute nod.

"It would seem so, yes," Maya confirmed. "I think that they're trying to test us, or something. I don't trust them. Something's not right here."

"I don't believe what they're saying for a second," Chris agreed with her, and then glanced over her shoulder towards the Gryffindor table. She expected to see Hermione somewhere amongst its company, but she only found her eyes falling upon that raven-haired boy sitting by himself between two larger groups of apparent friends, and lazily picking at his food. As though he knew who watched him, his green eyes slowly rose from his plate.

She willed herself to break the eye contact that had been established between them, but it proved to be impossible. She had tried her hardest to avoid him ever since the last time they had spoken to one another, and had been successful thus far. Why was it, then, that this time she nearly had to pry herself away from him and turn back to her two Ravenclaw friends?

A small smile crossed her lips as the answer came to her: she was a complete sucker for those eyes. She always had been - it was the first thing that she had ever noticed about him, when they met in their first year of schooling together. He had never failed to hold her gaze, in all the time that they had known each other. It seemed that, even though grey eyes tended to haunt her mind's eye nowadays, she still had a soft spot for that brilliant shade that Harry had inherited from his mother.

At the thought of Draco - even though it was small - her heart sunk in her chest. She thought about what she had seen him doing the day before, but then decided to save herself a little bit of pain by not dwelling upon it or, for that matter, bringing the memory back to surface.

"Hello, Chris?" Claudia waved a hand in front of her in attempt to bring her out of her daze. "Look."

She did, in hopes that it would distract her from her thoughts. It only managed to stab at her, though, for she laid eyes upon the one thing that could have possibly made matters worse.

She hadn't minded it so much on the first night that she had returned to the castle. She had still been angry with Draco, and didn't think that there was anything else he could possibly do that would bother her more. But, as her anger dissipated, leaving her with only her massive crush, _everything_ that he did anymore upset her.

He still wouldn't look at or talk to her, but he had no problem whatsoever with anyone else. She had even witnessed a verbal disagreement between he and Harry, after Draco had intentionally knocked his books out from under his arm. Chris knew that he had done it for exactly that purpose - to be able to vent some of the anger he felt from whatever it was that was bothering him. And what bothered Draco bothered her as well, for it raised a question she did not know the answer to: if he wasn't angry about what she had done to him at her birthday party or about her termination of the arrangements between them, then what _was_ he so upset about?

Of course, it could have just been a personal attack on Harry. When Chris thought about it, if it hadn't been for her relationship with Harry, she and Draco would have more than likely come back to Hogwarts as more than friends. She would have let Draco kiss her on the path behind his house, and, she remained positive, Draco would have told her about the arranged marriage before she had found out on her own. And maybe - just maybe - Chris would have grown to accept the idea of it. She couldn't shake the feeling that Draco shared the same sentiments in regards to this idea.

But now, here she sat, staring just over Harry's head at the goings-on at the Slytherin table. It was not Pansy this time, however, that whispered naughty things into the other's ear, but Draco. Chris knew what he suggested the two of them do, for she had witnessed it the day before, in a usually unoccupied corridor on the seventh floor, where she had thought she could dwell alone in order to take a break from that which bothered her. She would have never gone up there if she knew that things would only be made worse.

At least _he_ hadn't seen _her_, though. Neither he nor Pansy's attention wavered from their sinful endeavor, for they had been far too lost in one another to be distracted. It was not the sight itself that bothered her - she could have easily dismissed it as his succumbing to a vice that she knew he had no control over. It was not the words that he spoke, either. She knew that he said them to every girl he needed in order to fulfill that persistent desire. Or, so it seemed...

There was something different in his voice that time, something that brought forth memories from the occasion when _she_ had been the one he dominated. When he told Pansy how he felt towards her in that moment, it had not been unlike the time he revealed himself to _her_. Not completely similar, but enough so to make Chris wonder just why Draco had lied when he said he never felt the same way towards any of the other girls that he had managed to seduce into his web of deceit.

Chris watched as he and Pansy eventually stood from the Slytherin table. She could not miss the secretive glance that they shared before heading towards the exit, and she felt absolutely nothing to her heart's content when she saw Draco move to wrap his arm around her hip.

_'What are you so upset for?' _she thought to herself. _'You already had your chance with him, and you blew it, remember? You even_ bit _the kid. No wonder he doesn't want to pursue you anymore. In fact, he's probably_ glad _that the arrangements are off-'_

Of course, she still had the ability to set things in the other direction. She could not deny that the thought of writing her mother had crossed her mind. However, as soon as it did, an unfamiliar fear would wash over her. She knew that she was not ready for marriage, and, beside that, far too much awaited her if she made the decision to go with Draco. Besides, how could she be sure that he even wanted her anymore? Perhaps he really _was_ happy with Pansy.

She groaned, and immediately regretted it. She had meant for it to be inward, but it had somehow managed to cross her lips and materialize itself into existence.

Maya gave her a strange look. "What was _that_ for? Does that sight somehow bother you? Don't get me wrong, it bothers me too, but I just don't know who I feel more sorry for-"

"No, it just kind of ... came out," she explained rather lamely, with full knowledge that she hadn't, in fact, explained anything. She noted the unsatisfied expression upon her friends' face, and saw the need to change the subject. "Hey, have either of you seen Hermione today? I _really_ need her help this afternoon for my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but I just can't seem to find her."

"I could help you-" Claudia offered, but then cut herself off as she glanced up at the clock. "-Oh, but I have class starting in a few minutes..."

"She left this morning, after breakfast," Maya told Chris. "With the Weasleys."

Chris furrowed her brows. "Where were _they_ going?"

"I heard something about a funeral in class this morning," Maya recalled as she thought about Professor Hagrid inquiring upon Ginny's absence. "I don't know any more than that, though."

"A funeral?" Chris repeated, aghast. "Who died?"

Maya and Claudia both shrugged.

Chris looked back over her shoulder at Harry. It couldn't have been one of the Weasleys. He would have been gone if it was, and Chris would have heard all about it by now-

Chris furrowed her brows and hurriedly took to staring at the Ravenclaw table as she felt an epiphany coming on. Ginny. She had been crying on Monday. Had Harry been telling her the truth when he said that he didn't know why Ginny had been upset? Did he really have absolutely nothing to do with it?

Well, if all that she had just learned and thought was true, she was going to find out.

"See you later," Chris hurriedly spoke as she departed from Claudia and Maya's presence.

She made her way up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, her eyes not wavering from her goal. Harry glanced up, but then hurriedly looked back down at the table when he saw that Chris was, it seemed, about to leave the Great Hall. He looked up through his unruly hair, waiting to see her move past him, but was surprised to see her slow to a stop when she had reached where he sat.

Wondering if his eyes deceived him, his gaze slowly traveled up to meet hers. She indeed stood before him, and when she saw that she had his attention, she gave him a small, apologetic smile.

"Hi," she greeted him in a small voice. "Is it all right if I sit down?"

"Oh - sure," Harry nodded, surprised at her request. As she found her place on the bench opposite him, he wondered what could possibly have brought her over here. Had she finally come to realize that the disagreement they'd had on Monday was based on fallacy?

Chris opened her mouth to speak once she had made herself comfortable, but she didn't quite know what to say. Should she apologize first, or discover the facts? The latter seemed more imperative, she thought.

"So ... who died, exactly?" she asked, hoping that Maya had heard right in Care of Magical Creatures.

"Ron and Ginny's auntie Muriel," Harry replied without hesitation. He had suspected that this would be the information she sought from him. "On Monday morning. Ron got the owl in Herbology, and then told Ginny."

"How'd you miss hearing about it?"

"When Pig showed up, Professor Sprout let him step out of the greenhouse we were in to get the letter," he told her with a small sigh. "He read it, came back inside, spoke a few words to Sprout, and then left for the castle. He told Ginny when she got out of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Chris muttered under her breath. "So you had no way of knowing about it until later."

"No."

"So you _didn't_ know why Ginny was crying."

"No, I didn't."

She sighed, and spoke again after a small hesitation. "And you didn't have anything to do with it."

"No, I didn't," he calmly repeated. "I tried to tell you that, but..."

He trailed off, but Chris knew what he wanted to say. With an embarrassed smile, she finished his sentence. "I wouldn't listen."

Harry knew better than to confirm what she said, and instead returned her smile. "It's all right."

"Why didn't you just say it to me, though?" Chris asked, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you just say 'Ginny's aunt died, and I had nothing to do with the fact that she was upset, just so you know.'? Even if it was completely random and out of the blue, I would've taken it-"

"It seemed to me as though you wanted some space," Harry shrugged. "So, I gave it to you. I figured you'd hear about Auntie Muriel's death from elsewhere, eventually."

"Which I did," she nodded her head in confirmation, but soon took to shaking it and clicking her tongue as she considered her stupidity. "I am _so_ sorry, Harry. I don't know what I was thinking, jumping right to the conclusion that there was something going on between you and Ginny. It wasn't right of me to do that to you, to attack you like that on something so ... _unlikely_."

"It's fine - _really_," Harry reinforced it as she opened her mouth to retaliate. "Let's just put it behind us, all right?"

Harry furrowed his brows as Chris bowed her head. She seemed in thought, but he could not tell if what she was thinking was beneficial towards their relationship or not.

"Harry, there is so much that's happened between us that I want to put behind us, besides this," she spoke as she engaged him once again. "I've made a lot of mistakes during the time that we've been together, and there are some things that I can't possibly undo. Is there any chance that we could just ... start over?"

He wasn't entirely expecting this. He did not want to admit it, even to himself, but he had been expecting her to end their relationship more so than anything else. It was because of this that he stared at her, unsure of what to say in reply.

Chris took his speechlessness as something undesirable. "Well, I mean, that is if you want to. I - I think we should, but if you don't, it's fine-"

"I think it's a good idea," he finally said, cutting her off.

Her face lit up. "You do?"

He smiled at her, and then nodded. "Don't think that I haven't noticed the distance between us lately. And, well, I know that we went kind of fast-"

"That was _my_ fault, though."

"Just because it's your fault, that doesn't mean you can't regret it," Harry told her as he glanced around at the dissipating students. "Hm. It looks like lunch break is over. What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Well, I was hoping to get Hermione to help me with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but Maya told me that she left with Ron and Ginny this morning," Chris replied, but then stupidly remembered that Harry was in her class. She had, after all, tried to come as late as possible so that she had an excuse not to sit next to Harry when there were no available seats near him. "How are _you_ doing with it?"

"I haven't even started it," he smiled guiltily, and then shrugged. "I don't have an afternoon class, either. Want to head for the library?"

"Sure," Chris confirmed as she stood from the bench. "I've already got my textbook with me, if you just wanted to share."

"Sounds good," Harry got up as well, and they headed for the Great Hall's exit together. "I might need to borrow a quill, though."

"Of course," she smiled fleetingly, and then fell silent as they began to ascend the marble staircase en route to the fourth floor.

The silence between them this time, however, did not feel as awkward as it had in the last little while. Just like times past, Chris actually enjoyed the hush. It had been a long time since she had felt this way, and she couldn't help but feel a swelling sensation in her chest because of that.

It was with slight regret that she broke the silence with a newly probing question regarding a situation that she had nearly forgotten about in the past few days. "So, Professor Parasca talked to you after class yesterday?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, and then slowly nodded in confirmation. Chris' curiosity piqued as she realized that whatever they had spoken about had not been pleasant subject matter.

"She came to _me_ Monday morning, trying to find you," Chris informed him. "You must have had a pretty tight schedule this week, if she was only able to discuss the matter with you yesterday."

It sounded to Harry as though she knew what he and the new teacher had talked about. "You _know_?"

"Know what?"

"Never mind," Harry shook his head, and then sighed heavily. "Yeah, we tried to talk a few times this week, when she pulled me aside, but something always seemed to happen to make us postpone it. Zabini disappears, and she's called up to the Headmaster's office to be let in on the situation. A couple of first years are scrapping over a chocolate frog, and other stuff like that. Of course, if I had known what she wanted to talk about, I would have been extremely thankful for those distractions, at the time."

"Yeah?" Chris asked. "What did she want to talk about, or is it one of those things that's supposed to be kept a secret?"

Harry shook his head. "No, well, she asked me to keep it quiet, but I trust you. She asked me about Sirius."

Chris hurriedly glanced around to make sure that they were truly alone before she commenced to speak, dropping her voice in the process. "_Sirius_? Why?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. She told me that she went to Hogwarts when she was young, and had been in the same year as him. She had been stuck in Romania ever since she graduated, and wanted to know how he was doing."

Chris paused. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her the only think that I _could_," Harry replied in a mumble. "I told her that he was - that he had passed on."

Chris noticed the discomfort that this conversation was pushing Harry into, and so took his hand and squeezed it, hoping that this would offer him some sort of consolation. He had never had an easy time speaking about his late godfather, and it was never anything that she, Ron, or Hermione forced him to talk about.

"She quickly regained her composure, but I saw it," Harry continued to speak when he was ready. "That little flicker of ... emotion, or something. She expected him to be alive and well, I think. She wasn't anticipating what I told her."

"It'll be all right," Chris told him. "I'm sure she'll be fine. I mean, if she knew Sirius, then she must have known your parents, right? And, she must have known that - they, well..."

"That they're dead, too?" Harry suggested. He suddenly realized that he had never told Chris how much he appreciated the fact that she never directly mentioned that detail to him. "She didn't know about that, either. I had to tell her."

Chris gaped at him. "What? But, how _couldn't_ she know? Even if she's been isolated in Romania all these years, Dumbledore must have at least told her _something_ about it, when she came back!"

Harry shook his head. "He didn't. I think that he maybe took for granted that she knew."

Chris fell silent again, and stared straight ahead. "She wanted to make contact with Sirius again, for some reason."

"Well, of course she did," Harry agreed with her. "Why else would she be asking about how he's doing?"

"It's just something that Claudia said one day," Chris elaborated as they began their ascent of the final staircase between themselves and the library. "She fell oddly silent after I asked for more detail-"

"Maybe Professor Parasca was just friends with my parents and Sirius," Harry shrugged. "I mean, it would come as a shock to _me_ if I left Britain for between ten and twenty years, and then came back to find out that Ron, Hermione, and - say - Neville were dead."

"Not _me_, though?" Chris arched an eyebrow at him inquisitively, and then laughed.

"Well, of _course_ I'd be upset if you were dead," Harry rolled his eyes. "I just assumed that you knew I'd take you with me, if I were to leave."

Chris' smile transformed into a grin, and she planted a small kiss on his cheek before they fell completely silent, having finally entered the library.

Madame Pince glanced up at them, and then glared indicatively at their hands, which still remained entwined between them. Chris and Harry hurriedly let go of each other, for they knew that Madame Pince frowned heavily down upon any sort of the thing within the library. Chris supposed that two too many kids had been caught fooling around in the aisles between the bookshelves.

"Here's good," Harry whispered to her as they came to an empty table. "So, what were you having problems with, in class?"

"Just how the Imperius Curse works, exactly," Chris shrugged. "I read the part about it in the textbook, but I still didn't completely understand it..."

She trailed off as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She could not believe that he had come here, out of pure will. She felt her stomach plummet as she registered the disorderly appearance that Draco had seemed to inherit at some point within the past hour. She swallowed hard as she realized that she did, in fact, know how his untidiness had come to be. As he moved closer, she noticed just how wrinkled his clothes were, that his tie had been quite hastily done back up, his hair was not behaving as well as it usually did, and his lips were still oddly swollen. With one look of contempt in she and Harry's direction, he seated himself at one of the tables and thrusted Chris' attention back to her unfinished statement.

She shook her head before she spoke again. "So, I was going to get Hermione to explain it a little further for me."

Harry frowned, and then glanced over his shoulder. He could not pretend that he had not noticed Chris' momentary alarm, and as he inspected upon that which had distracted her, a small sneer came over his face. "You'd think he'd have the decency to fix himself up before he showed himself in public again."

Chris couldn't help but agree with Harry on this one. But, judging by the way that Draco came as he did to the same place as she was made her think that it was maybe more than a coincidence. She didn't know if Draco would do something of the sort intentionally, but she couldn't deny that if he was trying to make her feel jealous of Pansy, it was definitely working.

"Anyways, when it comes to the Imperius Curse," Harry attempted to bring her back from her thoughts. "Hermione explained it to me as 'my thoughts become your own', I think she said. It's not that hard of a concept, but, I have to agree, the textbook doesn't make it easy to understand in the least - Chris, are you even listening to me?"

She wasn't, but even speaking her name wasn't enough to gain her attention. She was still gazing over Harry's shoulder, for Draco was looking back at her. More than looking - _staring_. Chris had a difficult time in breaking the eye contact that they had established, but when she finally managed to, he stood up from where he had seated himself and made his way across the library towards where she and Harry were.

"Hold on," she muttered to Harry in reply to his question. He glanced over his shoulder again, slightly annoyed this time. He soon understood her lack of attention to what he was saying, however, when he saw that Malfoy was approaching them.

Harry spoke before Malfoy could reach the table. "What do _you_ want?"

Draco glanced over at him, sneered, and then turned to Chris. "I need to talk to you."

Chris gestured towards her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

The three of them glanced over at Madame Pince as she sharply shushed them. They did not completely conform to her wish, and so returned to their previous venture, though at a lower volume as an act of compensation.

Draco leaned forward onto the table, and continued to ignore the reproachful glance that he was receiving from both Chris and Harry. Chris' expression softened, though hardly, when she thought for a moment that she had seen a flash of a part of Draco behind his eyes that was not angry with her. "It's important."

"I don't care," Chris told him as she crossed her arms. "Leave me alone. And take a shower, won't you? You smell like an animal."

He scoffed, and then smirked. "But that never bothered you before now, did it?"

"Malfoy, get lost," Harry hissed as he stood from his seat and confronted Draco. "She doesn't want to talk to you."

Draco ignored him again, and glanced past him at Chris. "It's about Blaise."

"Oh, so you've finally come around, huh?" Chris smirked and leaned back in her chair. "I tried to warn you, Malfoy, I truly did, but what did you do? You ignored me. If you hadn't been so thick, you might have been able to prevent his disappearance. It's all right, Harry. I've been waiting for this."

Harry immediately tried to protest. "But, he-"

"Harry, please-"

"Yeah, shut it, Potter-"

"_Dra_ - _Malfoy_-!"

"Didn't I already tell you three to _keep your voices down_?" Madame Pince's irritated voice entered the mix once again. She had stood from her desk this time, and seemed on the verge of shooing all three of them from her domain.

Chris shot a hefty glare at Draco, and then smiled apologetically at the austere librarian. "Sorry, Madame. We'll keep it down."

"I would certainly hope so," she snipped before taking her seat once again and returning to the book that she read. Chris noticed, though, that her eyes did not move across the page, now that there were potential 'trouble-makers' in the vicinity.

Draco began to whisper before Chris could address him once again. "I don't want to talk to you _here_. I want to talk to you alone, in the corridor."

Chris noted the heavy glance that he issued in Harry's direction. It was quite clear to her what Draco was trying to convey. Whatever he had to say, whether it was truly about Blaise or not, he didn't want to discuss it in front of Harry.

"Whatever you want to say to her, you can say in front of me-"

"Fine," Chris cut Harry off, and then turned to face him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He stared at her in disbelief as she stood up. "You're going to go along with this?"

She shrugged, moved around the table, and then gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Don't work yourself up over it. It's not a big deal."

He sighed heavily with a grumble, and Chris knew that he did not approve of her speaking with Malfoy about anything - especially something that might have the potential to help him and his fellow housemates. He thoroughly enjoyed the idea of the missing Slytherin, for after Marcus Flint had denounced his involvement in the situation, Harry could only assume that someone in either his house, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff had taken it upon themselves to play a nasty little trick on the contemptible house of Slytherin. As Harry watched Chris walk away in Malfoy's wake, he could only assume that the reason Chris agreed to speak with him was to somehow rub salt in an already sore wound.

As Chris followed Draco, she could not help but notice that her hands had begun to shake. Her heart rate increased as well as she thought about what Draco could possibly want to speak to her about. Of course, there was a chance that it truly was about Blaise's strange disappearance. However, he could have spoken about that in front of Harry. Chris' mind began to race as scenario after scenario rushed through it, each one more implausible, in her opinion, than the one that preceded it. She wondered at first if Draco was going to perhaps apologize for the behavior he had exhibited towards her in the past week. Maybe he was going to ask her to reconsider her decision in regards to the arranged marriage. Perhaps he was going to apologize for putting her through an emotional Hell while he fooled around with Pansy, and admit that the only reason he was with her was because, once again, he couldn't have who he truly wanted-

"Here's good," he brusquely spoke as he came to a sudden stop, nearly causing her to run into him. She nodded, not daring to meet his eyes in fear of giving herself and her thoughts away. "I need to know what you were going to tell me that one day at lunch."

Chris jarred slightly on the spot out of surprise, and brought herself to look upon him. This _was_ what he wanted to talk about? "I don't know why it's important to you right now. Everyone seems to know it, already-"

"Was it or was it not Marcus that was responsible for Blaise's disappearance?" Draco spoke overtop of her.

She shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that he and Marcus were fighting about something right before he disappeared-"

Draco stared at her. "So, that's actually _true_?"

Chris nodded in confirmation.

"That son of a bitch," he mumbled under his breath as his face contorted into a sneer. "He's been lying to me. He's spent the last few days convincing me that that's not true. He even tried to shift the blame over onto Crabbe and Goyle, but I know that they're too stupid to get away with this, or, even to get the _idea_ to try it. You're absolutely _sure_ that it was him?"

She shrugged. "Pretty sure. Maya and Claudia witnessed the fight that Marcus and Blaise had on Monday. They said that Marcus was trying to talk to Blaise about something to do with the Council, but Blaise was refusing to do whatever Marcus was asking-"

Draco furrowed his brow at this. "But, the Council is done. Astoria and Daphne said so."

"In theory it is, but I highly doubt it," Chris waved him off. "But, anyway, that's all I know."

"And that's all that I need," Draco spoke through clenched teeth. "I'll bet you that he knows where Blaise is, too. I suppose I should go talk to him ... maybe I'll find out."

Chris couldn't help but think that, from the way that Draco had spoken it, he was going to do more than just talk with Marcus. "Don't do it. You'll just get yourself into trouble."

"Perhaps," Draco replied as he stalked off down the corridor and away from her. "But if I find out where Blaise is, then it'll be _him_ that gets into shit; not me."

"You don't have enough to go on," Chris began to follow him as he went along his way. "For all you or I know, the facts that Blaise was seen speaking to Marcus and that he disappeared are completely unrelated-"

"Not likely," Draco stubbornly shook his head. "Knowing Marcus, he could very well have orchestrated this whole thing. I don't know what's gotten into him, but he's had it in for Blaise ever since summer started, apparently. Blaise told me on the train that Marcus had ruined everything between him and Sara, and that he's pretty sure that Marcus just hates his guts for no reason, whatsoever-"

"But, still, to make him disappear?" Chris probed as she caught up to him after running along for a short distance. "It doesn't make sense to me, Draco. If you have suspicions, go to Dumbledore-"

"Of course you'd say that," Draco scoffed. "You're a _Gryffindor_; a coward-"

"I am _not_ a coward," she spoke in her defense. "And - and you know the rest."

Draco grunted in response, but Chris knew that the memory of what she had once confided in him about was still bouncing around inside his thick head.

"Regardless," Draco continued to speak as they turned a corner. "This is how we settle things in the _real_ world - not this little fantasy world that you, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs seem to live in-"

He came to an abrupt stop, in both his speech and movement. Chris stared at him in confusion, but then followed his line of vision towards the other end of the corridor that they had come to. Chris' eyes widened ever so slightly as she saw Marcus sitting alone on a bench and digging through his messenger bag for something that he had apparently lost, or was looking for.

"That asshole is dead," Draco mumbled under his breath as he made his way down the corridor towards him.

"Shit," he heard Chris say, and then heard her head off in the other direction. It was no doubt to him that she did not want to be a part of what he was about to do, and he figured that she would merely return to the library and pretend that she knew nothing about what was going on. Self-preservation ... _there_ was the Slytherin within her.

"Get up, you scumbag," Draco hissed as he approached Marcus, who immediately jumped to his feet in surprise. He had been preoccupied with his search, and had not heard Draco approach him. "I know that you lied to me-"

"Take it easy, Draco," Marcus held his hands up in front of him and took a cautious step back. "I did what I had to do. Just listen to me, all right-?"

"Listen to you?" Draco repeated, continuing to advance on him. "That's what I've been doing ever since Blaise disappeared. Every time I listen to you, though, I only hear lies anymore, _Flint_. Why should I believe you now?"

"I only wanted his help," Marcus carefully said, keeping his eye on Draco's clenched fists. "He refused, and I only had one choice about what to do-"

"Why would you go to him in the first place, huh?" Draco raised his voice, and spoke overtop of his old friend. "After what you did to him this summer-?"

"Sara and I have always hit it off, and to be fair, she came on to _me_-"

"-Did you really think that he would want to help you?" Draco ignored Marcus' interjection. "And now, Marcus, you'd better tell me where he is. I am not afraid to force it out of you, either."

"I don't know where he is," Marcus hurriedly told him. "After I confunded him, he wandered off on his own, and I haven't seen him since."

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously at the cowering figure before him, but decided that this answer would not suffice. "Liar."

"I'm telling you the truth, Draco-"

"Yeah, I bet you are," Draco passed him off as he took another step towards him and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Tell me where he is, Marcus!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Marcus spoke, louder this time. "I _don't know_ where he is!"

Draco shoved him against the wall, banging Marcus' head in the process. "Tell me, _right now_!"

Though in a difficult situation, Marcus' own anger was beginning to surface. Along with the pain that pounded in his head came the temper that he was not unknown for within the Slytherin house. "How am I supposed to give you information if I don't have it? You're starting to act like a real prat, _Malfoy_-"

"A prat?" Draco repeated as he felt his anger tinge his cheeks pink. "I'll show you a prat!"

With all the strength that he had in him, he pulled Marcus away from the wall, and began to repeatedly thrust him against it, bent on causing as much damage to Marcus' head as he possibly could. He briefly wondered if rattling his brain around a little bit would cause his mind to volunteer the information that he kept hidden, but as he continued on, he found that he really didn't care what he discovered. The rage that he had felt towards Chris, Potter, the Parkinsons, his parents, and even the Dark Lord coursed through his veins. The thoughts that his oldest school enemy had once again triumphed over him and that he would now have to spend the rest of his life trying to love a despicable excuse for a human being surfaced, blinding him to what he was doing to the person he continued to injure, more and more so with each time he succeeded in forcing Marcus' unprotected skull against the castle's stone wall.

He soon grew tired of this repeated action, and threw Marcus to the floor. Marcus groaned, growing dangerously closer to unconsciousness with each passing second, but Draco would not grant him this indulgence. His foot connected with Marcus' ribcage, and as Marcus rolled over onto his side, trying to catch his breath, Draco merely pushed him back onto his back and brought his foot down as hard as he could onto his lungs, shoving the air once again from his chest and causing Marcus to spit out a mouthful of blood onto the floor next to where he lie.

Draco reeled back as he also tried to catch his breath. The rage still stung his body, but it was not nearly as strong as it had been when he began this plight. When his head ceased to throb and his vision had cleared, he sneered before spitting on Marcus. "You are so pathetic, you know that?"

"Come back here, you coward!" Marcus gasped as Draco began to walk away. "Finish it, why don't you - prove that you're as great as your _father_, the _noble_ man..."

Draco halted in his tracks. Taunting? Marcus was _taunting_ him, after what he had just gone through?

Before another thought had gone through Draco's mind, his stomach lurched as he felt something tighten threateningly around his neck. He struggled against his attacker, but soon discovered that there was more than one of them as a huge fist came into contact with his jaw. His vision blurred once again, and he instead concentrated his efforts towards attempting to loosen the chain that cut into his trachea. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and knew that if he did not succeed soon, he would pass out, or perhaps something even worse would happen to him.

"Someone's coming!" he heard Marcus harshly whisper through the new sensation of near-unconsciousness as it threatened to overtake him, beginning with a ringing in his ears. "Get out of here!"

As soon as those words came, the chain around Draco's neck released its death grip on him, and he fell to the floor, gasping for air not unlike Marcus had just done. Whoever had come to Marcus' aid, though, did not seem to be done with him quite yet. Completely devoid of any physical strength in his state, Draco had no choice but to take the barrage of fists that collided with his body. There was a sense of urgency to them, however, and they soon stopped. As Draco lay motionless, face down on the floor, he tried to muster enough strength to raise his head and find out who had attacked him in place of Marcus, but only failed in his plight.

The approaching footsteps stopped, and he felt incredibly relieved to find that he recognized the new voice that spoke. "Oh my _God_!"

Chris ran forward from the junction of the two corridors, and bent down next to Draco. It took all the strength that she had to roll Draco over onto his back, but when she had succeeded she commenced to take in the multitude of his wounds after emitting a gasp quiet enough for only she and Draco to hear. She wiped away the small trickle of blood that ran from the corner of his mouth as her eyes scanned the bruises that his face had suffered. She was more concerned about the dark line that ran along his throat, though, and she ran a light finger overtop of it, as though attempting to decipher whether or not it was truly a product of the fight between he and Marcus.

Draco winced as she applied the smallest amount of pressure to the mark left by the chain, and he tried to speak out against what she was doing. His attempt to communicate only managed to send more pain through his already aching windpipe.

His eyes fluttered open, and even though he knew who it was that had come to his side, he could barely even see the outline of her face. He willed for his vision to sharpen, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. He felt her hand gently cup his cheek, and then her thumb begin to run back and forth repeatedly against his skin. The sensation caused him to groan, but not out of physical pain. Another pain was beginning to resurface, one that he had wished he would never feel again after the summer that he had just been through. However, it was accompanied by something else: a gleam of hope that, maybe, since she had come back to him, that meant-

"Professor, he's coming around," Chris spoke as she heard the groan come from the deepest regions of his lungs. "I think he's conscious."

Snape looked away from Marcus, and briefly held up attempting to pinpoint all of the foolish boy's injuries. "Good. Do not let him slip back out of it. These two need to go to the Hospital Wing, and soon."

_'Snape?'_ Draco thought. He had been absolutely sure for a minute that she had run back to the library and retrieved Potter, but she got someone _either_ than him? The pain that had begun to manifest itself within him abated ever so slightly.

"Come along, Ms. Murray," Snape spoke to her again. He had already levitated Marcus, in order for an easier passage through the castle. "We need to take these two to Madame Pomfrey and let her sort them out before _I_ do. I hope that they know how to clean like a Muggle, because I daresay that they will be doing it for quite a while after pulling _this_ stunt."

"I'll be right behind you, sir," Chris replied, and then turned her attention back to Draco once the Potions Master had left her sight. His breathing was uneven and careful, and Chris wondered if he had suffered any damage to his lungs or ribs. She let go of his cheek, but hesitated as she reached for the topmost button on his shirt. Deciding to bite the bullet, she carefully began to undo it. "I told you not to do this, and look what happened. You're probably satisfied, though. You got him just as good as he got you-"

Draco saw her eyes widen ever so slightly as they grazed the first of, though unknown to her, many hints towards the deed that he had committed with Pansy earlier that afternoon, and the day before. He knew that he shouldn't have felt so embarrassed about the one a few hours ago, because she surely knew about that, what with her comment towards him in the library. The look of disappointment and dejection that swept across her face managed to introduce him to a new emotion. Was _this_ what Guilt felt like? No, he had felt guilt before. This had to be Regret.

He wanted so badly to console her, but as he tried to speak again, another wave of pain pulsated through him. She seemed to understand what he tried to do, but it did nothing to make her feel better. She hurriedly made to do the button she had undone back up, but stiffly paused as Draco's hand twitched at its side, began to move, and then came to a rest on top of hers.

"Draco, this is so wrong," she whispered, but did not move her hand away from his. It registered in the back of her mind that she was supposed to be taking him up to the Hospital Wing for treatment, but she could not bring herself to end - whatever it was - that was happening between she and Draco in that moment. Was this his way of apologizing?

He knew that it was wrong but, damn it, he didn't care at that moment. He had feared that she would pull her hand from his grip, but she did not. Instead, she closed it, clasping the tops of his fingers. With his thumb, he commenced the same action that she had employed against her cheek, and Chris recognized it for what it was. She smiled down at him, her cheeks tingeing the slightest shade of pink, and he tried his best to return it, even though it was a futile effort.

Chris did not miss his attempt at it, and smiled enough for the both of them. A small laugh escaped her lips, even though this was definitely not the most appropriate time for it. Her free hand found his cheek, and she forgot everything as she indulged in showing this slight affection towards him. The fight that she had just had with Harry slipped her mind, the thought that Draco had seemingly dove into another relationship with Pansy eradicated itself from memory, and the anguish that she had caused him over the summer melted away before her mind's eye. For a split second, the barriers between Slytherin and Gryffindor house collapsed, along with Hogwarts itself. It was just her and Draco ... she and him alone, as it _should_ be-

"What the Hell is this?"

Chris removed her hands from Draco's grip and face as fast as she could upon hearing Harry's voice behind her. It seemed that he had finally found her here, after flat out denying the idea that it was imperative she and him halt the fight that was to occur between the newfound enemies of Slytherin house.

Chris stood, and turned to face Harry as he slowly approached, glancing around her and trying to get a better look. "What happened to him?"

"Flint happened, is what," she sharply replied, crossing her arms reproachfully. "I have to take him to the Hospital Wing. He's really hurt."

Harry glanced around. "Where's Flint?"

"Professor Snape already took him up there," she callously told him, wishing that he would just leave and not pretend as though he cared.

Harry stared at her. "Snape?"

"Well, you wouldn't help me, so who else was I supposed to go to, Harry?" she challenged him on the notion, prolonging the argument that they'd had before she had decided to search for help elsewhere. "He was the first person that I ran into. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get this poor soul up to Madame Pomfrey."

"'_Poor soul_'?" Harry repeated in sudden outrage as she bent down next to Malfoy again. "He probably deserved everything that happened to him-"

Her body tensed, and Harry realized that he had gone too far. She stood to face him again, and this time he saw something behind her eyes that he had never seen before ... within _her_, anyway. "You know what, Harry: just screw off! You're absolutely no help to me here, and you're only prohibiting him the help that he needs-"

"Good!" Harry yelled back at her, though did not manage to top her own voice. "I'm _glad_ that he's hurt! I wish that I'd seen Flint beat the living shit out of him!"

Chris gaped at him. "You are _such_ a jerk!"

"Chris, this is _Malfoy_ that we're talking about here!" he reminded her.

"So what?" she took a step towards him. "He's a human being!"

Harry stared at her with an agape mouth, but he did not know what to say to that. Instead, he sent her one more reproachful sneer, turned on his heel, and then marched away in the opposite direction without so much as a glance back.

Chris stared after him, and even though she felt more than angry with him, there was also a strange sadness beginning to come over her. A single thought ran through her head and, even though it was small, it had the power to bring tears to her eyes.

Cautiously, she turned back to Draco. He lay at her feet, and still hadn't moved from the position that she had left him in. She did not wish for him to see her upset like this, but it did not seem to be a real threat, for his eyes had closed again.

"_Shit_!" she muttered under her breath as she haphazardly dropped to her knees and remembered Snape's departing words. "Draco!"

His eyes flickered open again, and she sighed a breath of relief. It was not as she had suspected. He was still conscious. He threatened to close them again, but after he had registered the strange gleam to Chris' eyes, they grew wide and comprehensive. The previous rage that had pushed him into his recent bold actions began to bubble beneath the surface again as he realized that Potter had somehow hurt the girl leaning over him, but it grew even stronger when he thought about how Chris knowingly pushed herself into and through such a deplorable experience. _He_ wouldn't do that to her. Why couldn't she see that? Why didn't she _know_?

He opened his mouth to verbalize the last of his thoughts, but Chris only shushed him. "Don't try to talk. You're only going to hurt yourself again."

She closed his mouth by raising his jaw with her forefinger, and then stood to extract her wand from her messenger bag. It lay, forgotten, at the side of the corridor, and after getting her wand out, she slung it over her shoulder. After a quick inspection, she found that Snape had already taken Marcus' with him.

"Let's get you out of here, then," she grumbled as she flicked her wand towards Draco. He slowly rose into the air, and as Chris moved, so did he. As they maneuvered their way through the corridors, Chris kept her eyes where they were going, but she knew that Draco's drilled into her the entire time that they carried on. The more she thought about it, the more the prospect consumed her mind. A compulsion to inspect upon it took over her, and she soon yielded to it.

She looked down at him, and her suspicion that Draco stared at her was confirmed. He tried to smile at her again, but gave up with a grimace. She did not return it this time, but instead looked back in the direction that she and Draco were heading.

She didn't know if he wanted to hear it or not, but she had to say it to aloud, just to hear herself say it and see how it felt. "I'm breaking up with him."

She hurriedly glanced down at him, and was not surprised at what she saw. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, and he tried to speak again, but only succumbed to a fit of strained coughs.

Chris knew what he wanted to know, though. "I tried so hard to make things work between us, but it's just been impossible. We've been over for quite a while, and I've known that, but I think that he's just starting to realize it, himself. It just seems like every time I talk to him, we end up fighting again, and I don't want that anymore."

The tears were coming again, and she bit down into her bottom lip as an attempt to try and hold them. She reasoned that it did not matter if she cried now, for Draco had seen her as she was in the moment. Whether she let them flow or not, he had witnessed her in a weak light.

"I'm sorry," she hurriedly apologized as she brushed them away. "It really isn't like me to cry over something like this, you know?"

She waited for a reply, but then remembered that Draco was not in a position to speak. When she glanced down at him, she saw that he apparently agreed with what she had said. "Thanks, Draco. I know it's not like you really had a choice, but thanks for listening."

The corners of his mouth flicked upward ever so slightly, but Chris would have taken it even if it were less than that.

"Well, we're here," she announced as the Hospital Wing came into sight. "Madame Pomfrey can get you fixed up, and then maybe we could actually _talk_, sometime?"

She knew that it was quite the gamble to suggest it, but he did not seem to refute it.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would show up," Madame Pomfrey met Chris at the door, and then took Draco away from her. "Severus had said that you would be right behind him, but I suppose that you got distracted on your way here, hm? It's a pity, if you did. This boy needs a lot of care..."

Chris followed Madame Pomfrey as she levitated Draco towards an empty bed, which turned out to be next to Marcus. Chris saw his eyes narrow as Draco was set down next to him, but she knew that he would never try anything while under the matron's jurisdiction. Any kind of movement while in his condition would warrant a lengthy tirade from her, and quite possibly some more unwanted medication.

"Now you stay put, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey scolded him as she bustled off towards her office, clutching Chris by the upper arm as she did so. "And you need to leave, Ms. Murray. Visitors will only stress him out more, at this point, and may inhibit the healing."

Chris looked back over her shoulder as Madame Pomfrey led her towards the Hospital Wing's exit. It made more sense to her that her presence would actually _help_ Draco, but perhaps it was better if she left. If Marcus saw she and Draco getting too close, he could easily say something to someone else, and the last thing that she needed right now was a rumor flying through the school about her supposed involvement with Draco Malfoy, and especially after her break up with Harry, if it were to happen sooner than later.

Draco, however, did not care whether or not Marcus saw he and Chris speaking to one another in a manner other than the way that they usually did in the hallways and in class. He had nothing to worry about when it came to his reputation, because it could only improve from where it was currently at if he managed to snag his enemy's girlfriend, and a Gryffindor at that. These were not the only thoughts in his head when it came to he and Chris, of course, but he couldn't deny that the extra bonuses that would come with a relationship with her tasted pretty sweet when he thought about it.

"Pst, Malfoy," Flint hissed from the bed next to him. "I know you can hear me. Listen ... when we get out of here, you're dead. You have my word. You're _done_, and you'd better watch your back."

Even in the light of Flint's threat, Draco's spirits could not be dashed. He had come to figure that he was closer than he had ever been to having something develop beyond friendship between he and Chris, and nothing could ruin his mood in that moment.


	20. His New Chamber

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XX: HIS NEW CHAMBER

-- -- -- -- --

It had only been two weeks since the last time Severus Snape visited the Malfoy Manor, but as he stumbled up the road against the fierce autumn wind that opposed him, he could not help but notice that there was something peculiar about it. The dwelling itself appeared the same as it had always been, but the surrounding woods were nearly silent - far more quiet than usual, even with the Dark Lord's conspicuous presence haunting the immediate area.

As the sickly orange light emanating from within the Manor draped over his pale visage, a familiar face appeared in the window. The woman that peered out into the oncoming night started when she noticed him for the first time, and then disappeared from view. Severus reasoned that the Dark Lord had put her on post to watch for him, for he was an expected guest, having been summoned nearly half of an hour before.

Before he could reach the front door, it swung open to expose Narcissa. "Come in, Severus. You must be chilled to the bone."

He gave her a curt nod of thanks, and brushed past her as he entered her family's home, if you could really call it that, anymore. Ever since the Dark Lord had assumed the place as his new headquarters, the extravagance that the Manor once boasted lay in shambles.

Narcissa immediately shut the door against the cutting breeze, and joined Severus' side. "Follow me, then. He's downstairs."

It did not show, but this confused Severus. The Dark Lord tended to linger in the Malfoys' drawing room whenever he came here. What exactly was he doing in their basement, of all places?

"Ah, Severus," Lucius greeted him as the Potions Master entered the sitting room behind his wife. "Welcome to our home, once again."

Severus gave him a short bow, but paused in his gradual declination when he heard a deep thud resonate throughout the house. He looked off in the direction that it had come from, but could not see anything. He did not suspect that he would, for it seemed to him that it had originated from beneath his feet. He looked up at Lucius and Narcissa and, for the first time, he saw anxiety and distress written across their faces.

"What's going on here?" he asked as he stood straight again. "What _was_ that?"

Narcissa crossed her arms, and looked to her husband to explain.

"The Dark Lord is ... renovating," Lucius shortly spoke after searching for the right word.

Severus inclined an eyebrow towards him. "Renovating? I did not know that the Dark Lord boasted interest in such an obviously Muggle trade."

"He's not personally doing it," Lucius elaborated, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at Severus' dry sense of humor. "He has some help. Come, we'll show you."

Severus followed Narcissa and Lucius as they led him down the hallway, further into the depths of their once beautiful home. Whatever the Dark Lord was doing, neither of them approved of it, and he did not have a difficult time in believing that. They had always taken great pride in their home, and he realized that it must have taken a lot for them to give it up as they had.

As they moved down the hallway, Severus became more and more aware of a stingy, earthy stench, and wrinkled his nose when it become too much for him to possibly ignore any longer. It was easily one of the worst smells that he had ever come across, but he recognized it. He had encountered the creatures that emanated the odor reminiscent of an open graveyard many times in his travels, and even in the hallways of Hogwarts, when Professor Quirrell had let one in on Halloween years ago.

They came to a break in the wall, and Severus reasoned that the smell could only be coming from within it. He knew where this passage led, but the entrance had never been this obvious, if at all visible, before. As he inspected the raggedly enlarged entrance to the lowest and most secret level of the Malfoy Manor, he couldn't help but notice that it had been made big enough to allow the entrance of the largest troll variety.

As he strained his ears, his suspicions were confirmed: amongst the scattered commands of a few choice Death Eaters, he could hear a dull grunting, accompanied by the occasional noise not unlike the one he had heard a few minutes earlier. But, what confused Severus was that it was not the sound of wood on rock, but _metal_ on rock that he heard. Perhaps the Dark Lord had replaced their clubs with something that he thought would be a little more efficient in achieving whatever his new plan was?

Lucius read Severus' face. "Yes, he has trolls down there. There are only about twenty or thirty of them left now, though. They've been dying off pretty steadily. I don't think that they're accustomed to this kind of labor."

Severus nodded slowly in understanding at Lucius' apathetic stance towards the creatures that the Dark Lord had employed to use for his gains. But, _what_ gains? What were the trolls doing here, in the basement of the Malfoy Manor?

"Come, Severus," Lucius invited him into the hole that had been torn in his home's wall by the stature of the undomesticated creatures. "He is waiting for you."

Severus and Lucius went their separate ways with Narcissa as they descended into the deepest depths of the Manor. The basement had never been a place that Narcissa wished to venture in, for there had always been little hints here and there that served to remind her of its former usages in the past twenty-five years. Though it had remained abandoned for thirteen of those years, the stench of the dead had never quite left it.

Lucius had already spent countless hours assisting the Dark Lord in his new pursuit, and the sight and smell of the newly enlarged subterranean cavity no longer bothered him. He had grown used to it, as he supposed he should. After the Dark Lord would dispel the trolls upon his new domain's completion, it would never be the same, or be returnable to its previous state.

They came to where Severus thought the stairs would end and the floor would begin, but there was something different about it. The stairs _did_ end, and this was the only recognizable trait of the basement's previous existence. It seemed that the entire floor of the basement had disappeared, to be replaced with nothing. As Severus peered over the edge of the last remaining bit of the basement's original floor, a sickening wave of vertigo washed over him, and he moved back towards the staircase that they had just descended.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Lucius dully asked him as he then moved to where Severus had previously stood. He retracted his wand from the inside of his robes, and directed it at a marked point on the wall. Severus watched as a small burst of flame erupted, and then moved the length of the wall into the cavernous void before them along a line that only it appeared capable of seeing. His black eyes followed it as it made its way around the curved walls, and then back again. When it reached them, however, it did not make a full circle. It continued on its way below their feet, creating a helix of light as it slowly crept towards the bottom.

With the new light, Severus noticed the numerous pillars that plunged into the darkness for the first time, serving the purpose of keeping the entirety of Malfoy Manor from falling into this hellish oblivion. After all, now that he could see the far walls opposite him, this place was easily the same size, if not larger, than the Manor's floor plan.

"We still have more stairs to go," Lucius broke the silence between he and Severus, who still stood in awe, his mouth agape. "The Dark Lord is at the bottom. It's all nearly done."

Severus pried himself from the abyssal sight, and followed Lucius as he led him down a staircase that had been clumsily dug out of the wall and haphazardly prepared. Severus was relieved that, as they passed through the closed passage, he could no longer see the depths to which he was descending. He could not help but notice, though, that the foul stench he had detected at the beginning of their journey downwards, though momentarily forgotten at the sight he had just experienced, was stronger here, in unventilated quarters.

"The Dark Lord wishes to close off the top, where we just were," Lucius told him. "I think he fears that one of us may wander stupidly over the edge."

Severus tried to express his appreciation towards Lucius' small joke, but he could not. He was already trying his hardest as it was not to breathe in the vile scent of those who dwelled at the end of the path they followed.

"_Lumos_," Severus heard Lucius mutter beside him, and did not hesitate to follow suit. They had ventured away from the carrying glow at the top of the chamber, and would be obscured by complete darkness if they did nothing to provide their own light.

Severus quickly lost track of the time that he spent in this desolate tunnel as he followed Lucius with nothing else to do but theorize as to what he would possibly find when their trek ended. The cries and grunts were beginning to grow louder, and if Severus traced his long, spider-like fingers over the wall's boundary, he could feel the reverberations as a couple dozen twelve-foot-tall trolls discordantly assaulted that which they had been set upon.

"We're about halfway down, now," Lucius announced with a quick glance in Severus' direction.

"How far down does this - place - go?"

Lucius hummed in thought. "I'm not entirely sure. I think that it's somewhere around a kilometer deep."

Severus let out a low whistle.

"Narcissa and I asked for it to be further away from the main house, but this wasn't entirely what we had in mind," Lucius continued as a dissatisfied expression flitted across his face. "We were thinking that perhaps the Dark Lord could find somewhere _else_ to keep his prisoners. It is, after all, very hard to fall into slumber with the screams of the tortured echoing throughout your chambers."

Severus stared at him. He'd had no idea, in all the years that he had affiliated himself with the Death Eaters, that the Malfoys could actually hear the Hell below their feet. His thoughts went momentarily to Draco, who he considered lucky to have been born late enough in the Dark Lord's early years of tyranny to not experience what he most likely never did learn had transpired within his family's home. He was quite certain, after all, that Draco did not even know that his home boasted a lower level.

"Tell me, Severus," Lucius' voice penetrated the thin air. "How is Draco adjusting to the marital agreements with Ms. Parkinson?"

Severus hesitated to tell Lucius the truth. Draco made it seem, very convincingly, that he was satisfied with the bride his parents had chosen for him in Christina's stead. However, as a Professor and an observant introvert when he himself was a teenager, he could recognize unhappiness without any difficulty whatsoever.

"He is making do to the best of his ability," Severus finally spoke after searching for the right words.

Lucius sniffed in disapproval, but then instantly regretted it as the foul smell filled his nostrils. His sneer intensified. "I would certainly hope that he is. She will do well for him, and will willingly provide him with a large number of offspring, if he so chooses a large family. She will also make a suitable Death Eater."

The longer Severus thought about Lucius' words, the more confused he grew. "Weren't you and Narcissa leaning towards forging a connection between the Malfoy family and the Murrays, though? I've heard Narcissa say more than once that she would rather see your son with Cynthia's daughter, rather than Helga's. Surely you feel the same, seeing as how you went to the Dark Lord, who called upon me, with your problem?"

"Narcissa would much rather have Draco marry Christina, yes," Lucius nodded resolutely. "Narcissa personally cannot stand Helga and Ralph and is, as you know, a long-time friend of Cynthia's. As for myself ... I am conflicted."

"How so?"

Lucius thought about for a moment before he began to speak again. "I will admit, there would be many advantages to be made if Draco and Christina were to wed. Her family has a very noble history with the Dark Lord, as do the Black and Malfoy families. It makes sense to me on these grounds that the three families come together. But, on the other hand, Christina strikes me as someone who is not yet ready for the monumental responsibility that would be thrust upon her if she were to become a Death Eater. In my eyes, she is very foolhardy, immature, and a loose cannon. The Dark Lord does not have room for someone like this amongst his ranks, no matter what their heritage."

"Cynthia and Eric proclaim that Christina needs this marriage, though," Severus countered as he expressed the family's primary worry when it came to their daughter. "They fear that if she does not marry Draco, she will pursue a life with Potter, instead."

"Is this true, though, Severus?" Lucius snapped. "You've seen them at school. Do you think it likely that Christina will choose to go against us?"

Severus pondered Lucius' question. "I don't know. There is an argument for both ways. I spoke to her after Potions class on Monday, and she tells me that she is trying to mend things between she and Draco. She is hesitant to go through with the marriage though, as you know. I do not believe that it is anything against your son, Lucius, and I merely think that she is just overwhelmed by what will come to be if she chooses to go along with the path that her parents have laid out for her."

Lucius glanced over at him, impressed. He had never thought of Severus as someone with such insight to human emotions, having never properly displayed them himself. "Tell me more. Tell me what you know about her and Potter."

"From what I can gather, they are strained," Severus shortly replied. "The Dark Lord has had me watching over them at Hogwarts, and I think that the summer vacation may have driven a wedge between them."

Lucius was silent as he stared ahead, fixated. "Do you think, then, that she will choose him in the end?"

Severus did not have an answer for this question. "Like I said: it could easily go either way."

"Do you see what I mean?" Lucius spoke without hesitation. "She's a loose cannon! We cannot trust her, and neither should the Dark Lord. Shame on Cynthia and Eric for raising her the way that they have. They have given her _far_ too much leeway in how she makes her decisions. If _I_ were her father, I would have pulled her from Hogwarts mere seconds after that sordid Sorting Hat put her into Gryffindor, whether she said it was her fault or not that it failed to place her in Slytherin. And, not only that, once I had learned about her ties to Potter, I would have stamped that nonsense out right away-"

"But the Dark Lord needed a tie such as this between himself and the boy-"

"It was never thought of perceiving her in that way until after he had returned," Lucius sniffed in disapproval. "It was far too risky for my liking. I opposed the notion when he mentioned it. I told him that there was a chance that she would turn on Potter in the end and help hand him over, yes, but there was an even _greater_ chance that she would forsake him in the end. He did not listen to me."

"For good reason," Severus replied, speaking a little louder. "He knows what he is doing, Lucius. Have some trust in the Dark Lord, wouldn't you?"

Lucius was silent for a moment. "I have plenty of trust in him."

"Then exercise it," Severus hissed through the darkness before he and Lucius desisted their conversation and descended into a strange awkwardness.

When Severus was sure that Lucius would not express the bitter comment that he surely held back, he turned his attention back to what the Dark Lord had accomplished here, in the deep recesses beneath the Earth's surface. So the Malfoys had suggested that the Dark Lord keep his detainees at a good distance away from their home, and he had only responded by deepening the basement. It was a nearly comical concept.

He strained his eyes when he thought that they'd caught the first hint of light ahead in the tunnel that he steadily moved through. For the first time, he noticed his perpetual claustrophobia. He dully realized that it had been present during his entire journey, but he had been too distracted to acknowledge it. He hoped that this was a stepping stone in being rid of it, for he had been plagued with it ever since it'd first manifested itself in his third year as a student at Hogwarts. He had been shoved into far too many dark, inescapable places to emerge unscarred from his schooling.

_'Damn Potter,' _he hastily thought as the light of the cavern fully greeted him.

He blinked his eyes profusely, for the sudden brightness, even though it would have been considered relatively dull in comparison to midday, caused them to water. He squinted as he tried to take in the full measure of what had occurred here, but the rods and cones in his eyes apparently desired to take their time in adjusting to their new environment, for it was nearly a full minute before he was able to see again.

Since Lucius had taken the time to briefly explain what was coming to fruition down here, it did not shock him as much as his first glance had. Severus counted how many trolls there were - twenty-two alive, and two who were either unconscious, or had expired.

"A part of the wall detached itself," a voice greeted Severus and Lucius as they gazed at the dead trolls. "It landed on them. They did not suffer, I do not think."

There was a hint of amusement to Rodolphus' voice, and he greeted the two newcomers with the smallest smirk he could manage. Then, without further hesitation, he turned towards the wizard in the midst of the chaos, who oversaw Bellatrix, Alecto, Amycus, Eric, and himself as they in turn presided over the trolls. Every few seconds, one of the trolls would slow in their ambition, either from exhaustion or, quite possibly, lack of memory as to what they were supposed to be doing. However, that was when one of the five Death Eaters would send them their reminder, and they would set back to work, in fear of receiving another dose of the painful spells.

"My Lord?" he called out over the sadistic scream of his wife as her curse hit a lackluster troll, causing him to stumble. "Severus has arrived."

The Dark Lord glanced back over his shoulder, and his scarlet eyes scanned over the three men that stood at his new dominion's entrance. Without the slightest change in his expression, he tore himself away from the sight before him and approached his distraction.

"Get back at it, Rodolphus, and you too, Lucius," he spoke as he reached them, his eyes unwavering from Severus.

They both bowed in respect, and then slinked away to join Bellatrix, Amycus, Eric, and Alecto in their tedious plight.

"What do you think, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked as he glanced around at the cavern that they stood in.

"Quite the accomplishment, my Lord," he gave him a short bow, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

"Does it inspire fear in the heart of mortal men?" he inquired, his voice growing higher as he did so. "Awe? Both, perhaps?"

"If I were your enemy, it would plague me with nothing less than fear," Severus answered his question. "But it would not matter if I was a Death Eater or a member of the Order of the Phoenix in order for it to fill me with awe, my Lord."

He glanced up at the Dark Lord to find that he had answered correctly. A small smirk slowly spread across his mouth, and almost gave him the impression of actually possessing lips.

"Come now, Severus," the Dark Lord invited him to walk alongside him as he made his way back towards the tunnel. "Walk with me. Surely you know that I brought you here for more than your ever-so-humble opinion."

"Of course," he nodded jerkily as he pulled his wand out once again, and lit its tip with the previous spell he had used. "I apologize for the fact that I was unable to come here on Friday, as I had planned. I was interrupted on my way out of the castle, and then had to deal with a couple troublemakers."

"As you explained in your brief letter, yes," the Dark Lord acknowledged that he had received the owl Severus had sent. "So, tell me. What transpires within the castle?"

Severus thought of everything that had happened in the first week of term, and wondered how much of it the Dark Lord would truly deem as worthy to know. "Nothing, my Lord."

He could sense the Dark Lord's angry curiosity with this answer. "Nothing, Severus?"

"Hardly," he shrugged. "A student disappeared, a couple of students from my house got into a fight over it-"

"What's this?" Severus could not help but notice that the Dark Lord sounded almost _entertained_. "Tell me more."

Severus studied the Dark Lord in the dim light of the tunnel. Something was different. He did not know if it was the unavailability of light, but there seemed to be a small gleam within his eyes that Severus, try as he might, could never remember being present before. Perhaps he was just in a good mood from the prospect of all the torture that would soon be done in his newly build chamber.

"Blaise Zabini disappeared, and Draco was convinced that Marcus Flint was responsible for it," Severus glanced away quickly as the Dark Lord countered his stare. "I am not entirely sure about what's going on, but since all three boys are in Slytherin, Dumbledore has entrusted me to get to the bottom of it."

The Dark Lord let a small hiss escape him as Severus spoke the name of one of his longest enemies. The - whatever it was - that Severus had seen in his eyes disappeared. "I see. You know, Severus, I had always thought that they would join me, as their grandfathers did. However, when Zabini's concubine of a mother betrayed me and took him with her, along with the Flints, I could take no chance that his father would not eventually follow them."

"I know, my Lord," Severus replied, with full memory of when he had personally seen to the murder of Blaise's father.

"But I always wondered if they would come back," the Dark Lord lamented. "Not Francesca, or Annika and Sebastian, but their children. I assume that Lucius thinks the same, seeing as how he has not poisoned Draco against them."

Severus nodded, but did not see how this could possibly be of any importance to either of them. "Well, my Lord, that is all that has happened since the last time I spoke with you."

They came to a slow stop in the tunnel. Once again, Severus had lost track of where he was. He hoped that he was near the exit, for he could feel his fear of cramped quarters sneaking up on him, once again.

"Very well," the Dark Lord dismissed him. "Come to me next week with more updates. If Fridays do not work for you, we will have to find a better time. I like consistency, as you know, Severus."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and Severus took a cautious step back. "Of course, my Lord. And if something should get in my way, I will be sure to give you more notice than I did two days ago."

"I would hope so," he descended down a handful of steps before speaking again. "Oh, one more thing, Severus: Lucius, Narcissa, Helga, and Ralph have warned their children not to speak to any other students about their arranged marriage, just in case word of it reaches Dumbledore's ears. _Do_ make sure that they maintain their silence. Especially the girl. You know what _she's_ like."

Severus nodded in understanding, and wondered why the Dark Lord made no mention of keeping an eye out for progress regarding Christina and Draco, instead. Perhaps he really didn't care about which Death Eater children were married, as Severus had once concluded. After all, why _should_ he care? He could not imagine why the Dark Lord would bother himself with such inane matters of business. But, then, why did he come to Severus on behalf of Eric and Cynthia? And, while he was in the spirit of wondering, what was that - that spark of _life_ that he had noticed within the Dark Lord as they walked side by side?

He slowly turned back towards the tunnel's exit, and shed the questions from his mind. It wasn't right. Something didn't add up. Whatever it was, though, he had a feeling that Dumbledore could possibly have an answer for him. At this thought, and as he felt the walls pressing closer in on him, he quickened his pace.


	21. Open Door

PESTILENCE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS  
PART I: SCHISM  
CHAPTER XXI: OPEN DOOR

-- -- -- -- --

Draco lay on his back in his bed, staring at the Hospital Wing's barren ceiling. Bored, he struggled to think of something else with which to preoccupy his mind. He had been lying in that very same bed for three days now, and had already pondered all that a seventeen-year-old boy could possibly care about. He began with the obvious - girls, and the woes that came along with them - and then preoccupied himself with thoughts of the upcoming Quidditch season.

He had heard that one of the fifth years was going to try out for his position as Seeker, and he actually caught himself worrying that the kid might prove himself more efficient than _he_ had in previous years. This thought was squashed, though, as he reminded himself that a new and updated version of the Nimbus broomsticks had been made available for purchase on the market, and that the Slytherin Quidditch team would be quite eager to get their hands on a set.

Draco had discussed the matter very stiffly with Marcus during lunch the previous day, when his disgruntled housemate had ceased in his whispered insults and threats long enough to eat a sandwich, as provided by the matron. The prospect of obtaining a new broomstick paid for and delivered by the Malfoy family was enough to silence Marcus and force him instead to express his loathing with an abundance of pointed stares and lengthy glares.

A bell rang somewhere beyond the Hospital Wing, causing Draco to glance over at the clock on the wall opposite. He groaned, for classes had just ended, which meant that his usual bedside visitor would soon join him - his secret fiancee, whose name was beginning to cause an uprising of bile within him whenever it involuntarily crossed his mind.

He watched as the second hand made its way around the old clock's face, and began to count down the minutes before Pansy would join him there. He knew that she was in Divination at the moment, and that it probably wouldn't take her long to reach the Wing at all. The mental image of her sprinting like a maniac through the crowded halls in his direction caused the hint of a frown to pass over him, but he willed it away when he heard the door of his temporary prison open, and then close again as whoever arrived shut it behind them.

It was much to his surprise when he saw who the two people were that had just arrived, for they were surely not here to see _him_. As though they knew the thought that Draco entertained, they each sent him a confirmatory sneer that even _he_ could say he was proud of.

"You didn't miss anything important in Divination," Vincent grunted as he and Gregory reached Marcus' bedside, and warily eyed Draco. "The old bat went off on more of her predictions-"

"Cow," Gregory commented as his sneer intensified. "She commented on-"

He stopped abruptly as his gaze found Draco once again, and he narrowed his eyes in an unfamiliar hatred. Lately, he had found it very hard to believe that he and Vincent had once been friends with this poor excuse for a human being. Recent events, however, dictated that a veil of abhorrence would settle between himself and his newfound enemy.

When he discerned the way that he was being considered, Draco hurriedly averted his gaze back to the ceiling. It was too late, though - they had noticed him, and were moving closer to his bedside. Draco questioned where the matron had gone, and wondered if she would hear him if he yelled loud enough. However, he would rather die than be made out to be a coward. In this situation, that did not seem to be an impossible alternative.

"Malfoy."

The way that he acknowledged him was foreign to Draco. To the extent of his knowledge, Vincent had never addressed him by his surname. Gregory had done so once before, but that had been before they had forged an acquaintanceship between the three of them.

Draco had formulated a mental plan to mind his own business while Vincent and Gregory were here with Marcus, for more reasons beyond the fact that his father had expressly forbidden the continuance of their friendship. However, now that he had been spoken to, that plan would have to be laid to rest. As slowly as he dared, he returned his gaze to the two brutes that now stood over him.

Before he began to speak again, Vincent fleetingly glanced over towards Madame Pomfrey's office. "_You_ know what happens within the Death Eaters, and _you_ were around them all summer. So, tell us, Malfoy ... _where are our fathers_?"

Draco looked back and forth between them, studying the way that their hostility contorted their expressions. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Gregory hissed under his breath. "We know that _he_ wanted to kill them-"

"Yeah, maybe," Draco shrugged apathetically. "But that doesn't mean that _I'm_ going to know where they are."

"What did they do to cross him?" Vincent added as his hands clenched into fists. "They were faithful followers for _years_-"

"And now they're out," Draco replied in annoyance. Why were they bothering him with their troubles? He had enough on his mind to contend with, for the time being. "I guess that's what happens-"

"We know that your own father handed them over," Gregory cut him off, and then hurriedly made sure that the coast was still clear before leaning in closer and dropping his voice. "If you don't start giving us some answers, and soon, you're going to feel a little more than a chain around your neck."

A wave of realization washed over Draco as Gregory threateningly cracked his knuckles. With a quick glance towards the jewelry that hung from his neck, Draco's suspicion was confirmed. A finger absentmindedly traced the still-apparent wound that he had suffered three days earlier. "It was _you_ that did this?"

A cruel, satisfied smirk materialized across Gregory's thin lips. "With great pleasure-"

He stopped abruptly as the door to the Hospital Wing opened once again. Draco groaned inwardly, for this arrival was _surely_ Pansy. However, his still-sour mood slightly lifted when he realized that his two old friends wouldn't dare try anything in her presence, for the unearthly shrieks that would surely follow would be enough to attract Madame Pomfrey's attention.

Just like the last time a visitor had been admitted into the Hospital Wing, it was a mixed blessing. It was not Pansy that came to relieve Draco of Gregory and Vincent's wrath, but someone who served the purpose of both stopping them in their threats _and_ sparing him the unintelligible blathering of his arranged fiancee.

"Oh," Chris quietly spoke as she took in the sight before her. She could not say that she was comfortable with the way that Crabbe and Goyle stood over Malfoy, and the way that Marcus leered from behind them, in his bed. "If - if you're busy, I can come back later. I just needed to - something about Potions-"

"Nah, we're done here," Gregory grunted in the way that he usually acknowledged students outside of Slytherin house, and then turned back to Draco. "We'll finish this later."

He forced a very difficult smirk, and then gestured to Vincent to follow him as he made his way towards the Hospital Wing's exit. Chris moved to the side to allow their passage, and was not surprised when they each individually sent her the usual glare that she received for the house that she was associated with. As the Hospital Wing's door shut behind them, Marcus' interest in what transpired in his surroundings abated, and he flung the curtain separating himself and Draco shut with a huff. No more was heard from him.

She had been slightly curious before, she would admit, as to why Draco seemed to have gone his separate ways with his thuggish friends, but after what she had just witnessed, and after recognizing the strained expression on Draco's face as relief, she was considerably more interested. However, she knew that, with Marcus' presence, she had better stick to what she had initially come here for if she wanted to avoid awkward questions.

"So, Malfoy," she spoke as she slowly approached his bed, crossing her arms. "You weren't in Potions today."

He shrugged. "Pomfrey wouldn't let me leave this morning. Do you have the History of Magic notes?"

"Yes," she nodded as she tried her best to ignore the awkwardness between them. "I would suggest that you get them off someone when you're released. There was quite a bit covered today."

"I was going to ask to get them off _you_."

"I don't think so," she shook her head, but then winked, nodding her head towards Marcus' closed curtain. "I already did enough for you in Potions class. We had to start our projects today."

"What did you do?"

"Just some research. Mind you, two and a half hours worth-"

"So, you've just come here to let me know how bad off you were in the event of my absence?" he smirked as he sat up against the headboard of his bed.

His developing smirk was abolished as Chris raised her eyebrows at him - a sign of old times that she was not impressed with his attitude. To his annoyance, Draco felt a small amount of blood rush to his cheeks. Not much, but just enough for her to notice it.

She uncrossed her arms, and sighed deeply. "Professor Snape said that, in the past, it's taken the students more than just class time to get these projects done on time. He suggested that we all-"

"What are _you_ doing here, Murray?"

Having not heard the Hospital Wing door open for the third time, Chris jumped as Pansy's shrill voice filled her head. She turned around where she stood, and was instantly met by Pansy's condescending glare and unapproachable disposure.

"I was just telling Malfoy what he missed in Potions class," she coolly replied. "When I'm done, I'll get out of your hair."

Draco slid back down in his bed. Damn, he thought. Since he had Chris here, and they were almost alone, he was going to inquire upon her level of seriousness in regards to what she had said to him in the corridor on their way up here three days ago. Besides the constant thought that he would, one day, be wed to Pansy, his mind had been occupied with Chris' statement. She had rekindled a snuffed flame of hope within him, for he remembered when she had told him of the feelings that she had allowed to fester towards him, even though he himself had had a couple glasses of champagne at the party. If she, indeed, was contemplating breaking up with Potter, did that mean that she was also taking _him_ into consideration?

_God_, he hoped so.

"Anyways, Malfoy," Chris proceeded to ignore Pansy's exaggerated pouts. "Snape thinks that we should be getting together outside of the classroom to work on the Potion. Everyone else has agreed to it with _their_ partners, and I'd really like to get this done as fast as possible. Whenever you're up to it, we should arrange a date and place."

He slowly nodded as she spoke, doing so noticeably faster than she had before Pansy arrived. He figured that she was in a rush to get out of there, now that his fiancee had arrived, and, really, he couldn't blame her in the least. He wished that _he_ had the ability to run away from her.

With Chris gone, Pansy perked up a considerable amount. She sat down in the chair that she had perpetually occupied in the time she spent here, at his beside. However, as she commenced to declare how much she had thought about him all day, Draco only pretended to listen. A realization came over him, and he could not control the smirk that surfaced on his content visage. By the way that Pansy sped up in her speech, he assumed that she thought it to have something to do with her. Silly girl.

Pansy may have a physical hold on him, he thought, but she would never obtain more than that. She would never obtain his mind or his thoughts, for they were already preoccupied and, in his mind, claimed.

_'Too bad for her,'_ he bitterly thought as he began to mentally prepare himself for the evening with Pansy that stretched out before him.


End file.
